


Golden Plates

by Smiling_Penelope



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breif (Canon) Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, But potential spoilers for all 3 in the series!!!, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Grishaverse, Memory Loss, My First Fanfic, No Underage Sex, Poor Alina- but she'll figure it all out eventually, Spoilers, shadow and bone - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-20 09:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11333412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smiling_Penelope/pseuds/Smiling_Penelope
Summary: My version of the life Alina would have had if her talent was recognized by the Grisha examiners. A life tangled into and formed by the Darkling’s will, their bond holding Alina back from her memories of before. Memories of when she was otkazat'sya……and free.





	1. Forgotten

Her hands were tiny and her wrists were so slender that she always wondered how they never snapped under the force of her blows. She pounded and slapped the back window of the coach futilely. But no matter how frantic her hands flew or how much they ached, she never broke the glass. She was only a child after all.

Instead the glass just blurred with the fog of her breathy screams, the grease from her hands’ repeated blows, and the tears that collected in her eyes. It wasn’t just her hands that hurt or her throat that burned with the screams scraping their way out. Every part of her ached with fear and loss.

Although distorted through the mess of the window she could still faintly see a boy running furiously behind the coach. His messy brown hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it back desperately with one hand, not slowing his pace.

The road was made of rough dirt and the coach vibrated over it painfully. The motion caused her to be dislodged from her position and she scrambled back up to the window.

The boy had stopped… no he had fallen.

“Mal!” It was the same cry every time, over and over until she felt that she could no longer breath, her breath painfully lodged in her chest.

He got back up and despite the increasing distance she could make out fresh blood on his face and hands.

He pumped his arms and legs even faster now, almost like he was trying to fly instead of run. 

But it didn’t matter. He was falling behind, quickly, becoming nothing but a speck of dust in the distance.

“Alina!” It was the whisper of a shout carried across an ever-growing distance.

The pain in her hands, the scrape of her throat, the burn of her tears, the constriction of her lungs… None of it mattered. All that mattered was… 

“Mal!”

\-----

Alina jolted up from her bed. The silk sheets around her were a tangled mess, grubby with sweat and she fought bodily with them. Her breath was raspy and rapid, but eventually slowed when she broke free from the shackles of her bed.

The image of the young boy with messy brown hair running after her was fading from her waking mind. He never caught up with her in the dream and his name never caught up with her in the sunlight of morning.

It didn’t matter how hard she fought to hold the name she screamed over and over again in her dreams, she still forgot it by morning. The only traces that ever remained were the mess of her bed and the faint image of the boy.

She didn’t even know who he was. He seemed so real to her, so precious. What else could he be to feel like her heart was being wrenched from her chest with loss? But she still never remembered anything else about him. Was he running away from something or running after her? Where was he? Who was he?

She shook her head not wanting to think about this again. She had thought that she over these dreams. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had one. She felt sick to her stomach as the night’s dream clung to her.

She wanted to cry. It was her birthday today, her 17th birthday. A day supposed to filled with nothing but happiness and sweetness, not bile in her throat. So how could she have had the dream again after so long? Why did she remain haunted when everything else in her life was so perfect?

A sharp, rhythmic knock interrupted her self-pity and she quickly tried to hide the evidence of the night’s turmoil. She attempted to smooth the sheets and the tangle of her hair, with little success.

It wouldn’t do for anybody to know that she had the dream again. She stopped reporting them long before she stopped having them. When she used to speak of them she would be met with a range of stares from confusion, to worry, and, in the case of one person in particular, anger. 

She was about to try and shake her head again when the door opened. Alina breathed a sigh of relief as a beautiful servant girl with long auburn locks flounced in.

“Good morning birthday girl!” she sing-songed as she all but dragged Alina from the bed. 

A strangled squawk of protest and laughter escaped Alina’s mouth as she was forcefully ejected from the bed and shoved onto the plush chair in front of her vanity. 

She looked into the mirror and the damage was, thankfully, less than she expected. Sometimes she would wake up from the dreams with dull skin and hair, bags under her eyes, and a slightly hollowed look to her already thin cheeks. But this morning the only damage were slight shadows under her eyes which could be easily written off as excitement for her birthday keeping her up through the night. She wanted to keep all signs of the dreams unobserved, the secret of them clutched tight to her chest.

Genya’s gorgeous face appeared beside her own as she examined Alina in the mirror. Somehow the shadows became slightly more noticeable with the luminous face next to her own, but even if she had been jealous of Genya’s beauty she doubted that she would have minded. The bubbly servant girl could erase the shadows in a heartbeat and, more than that, she was about to make her almost as beautiful as herself. The two of them exchanged goofy grins through the mirror.

“I missed you!” Alina exclaimed as she turned to tackle the other girl into a fierce hug.

“I know, I know,” the girl rolled her eyes cheerfully then gasped at the back of Alina’s head. “What did you do to your hair? Get caught in a fight with a squaller?”

“Zoya wishes she could pick a fight with me.” It was now Alina’s turn to roll her eyes. “I swear, if she thought she could get away with it for a second I wouldn’t have any hair left from an ‘aczzidental breeeeze’!”

Genya chuckled at the jab and fake accent then, her face becoming serious, she quickly set to work, rolling out her supplies on the white vanity table. They continued their easy banter and gossip as Genya darkened her eyelashes, added real gold highlights to her hair, and other ridiculous, but amazingly beautiful treatments. The clammy feelings of the dream were slowly lessened with every laugh and guffaw the girls exchanged and Alina started to feel more normal again. 

When the girls were littler, Genya had been Alina’s personal servant and playmate. She would help Alina get dressed, play with her in between lessons, and get her ready for bed. But that was when they were both young and Genya’s talent and beauty hadn’t fully begun to shine. Once they did she had been given to the queen instead. Now they only saw each other briefly on special occasions before the queen deigned to wake up.

Genya would make Alina beautiful for whatever event the day held and Alina would share Little Palace gossip with her. She could tell that the servant girl longed for her old life, but whenever pressed too hard about it she would evade the topic.

As she was finishing up Alina stilled Genya’s hand before she could apply the last touches of blush. “I really do miss you, you know? I wish you could spend more time with me.”

Genya’s eyes went blank for a moment then she plastered a wry grin on her face. “You know I think he’s going to propose today!” The sing-song voice was back and she playfully jabbed Alina in the ribs with a pointy elbow as she danced around the topic. “He’s going to have too when you look like this!”

Alina’s cheeks flushed without the addition of blush. All the sickly feelings of her disastrous night were gone and her worries over Genya with them, replaced with warm, buzzing excitement in her stomach. Her breath caught in her chest, but not in the painful way it had previously, and she whispered, “I think so too,” before her face went completely beet red.

Genya’s eyes sparkled with mirth as she set down the blusher. “Looks like somebody won’t be needing this today!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! This is my first work (/⸝⸝•́દ•̀⸝⸝\\) so I hope you guys like it!  
> I know there are quite a few AU where Alina is noticed by the Grisha examiners, but I thought I would try to tell my version!  
> So far I have 6 chapters outlined, but I'm not sure how long the whole thing will be! (Seems pretty ambitious for my first fic, so we will see!)  
> Sorry if the chapters are a bit short! My goal is at least 1000 words, but some chapters will be longer than that for sure!  
> Anyways! I do hope you liked it!


	2. Conditional

She realized that she didn’t think she had ever seen the top of the Darkling’s head. His black hair looked soft and she focused on the whirl of hair at the end of his neat part and saw that it ran counterclockwise. It was a silly thing to notice at a time like this and she fought back a nervous giggle. 

It was the shining moment of what had been a perfect birthday. There was a warm sweet breeze blowing across the lake by the little palace and it made the edges of her black kefta dance. The sun was starting to set, bathing them both in its warm light. They had stopped at a small outcropping on the far side of the lake. Trees hid the gaudy main palace from view, but the little palace sat warm and inviting across the water.

Down on one knee the Darkling turned his face upwards as he offered a ring to her. Her breath caught as she stared at it. Its main gem was a pitch black opal streaked with shocks of color delicately framed by flourishes of silver that held it to an equally intricate woven silver band. The opal was also surrounded by a glittering ring of tiny black diamonds. It hadn’t been what she was expecting, but she loved it all the more for that.

He spoke, but the sound was muffled to her ears. “What?” she asked, internally chiding herself for the ridiculousness of being captivated by the sight of him on one knee before her.

His mouth curled into a wry smile as he gave a small chuckle before he repeated himself. “Alina Starkov, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her heart leaped up to her throat and she struggled to speak. Tears of joy welled up in her eyes as her greatest wish was coming true. She knew that she needed to answer, but was feeling completely overwhelmed.

When she didn’t answer he gave a little sigh, his smile faltering by a fraction, and he reached for her left hand. At his touch she felt the familiar rush of certainty wash over her. Her throat released some of its tension and she was able to choke out a very unattractive “Y-yes!”

His smile returned at full force, lighting up his beautiful face. His slate grey eyes seemed to dance with joy as he rose up from his knee to look her in the eye.

Her heart lurched at the sight. The Darkling was usually so private with his emotions, his face no more than a mask for his thoughts. It was rare to see him smile and when he did it was often such a small change that most did not notice it.

Alina noticed it. She felt that she noticed everything about the Darkling; knew the weight of his every gesture, understood the shape of his eyes, memorized the way his mouth formed words. She knew his face better than her own, better than anyone else’s.

Without breaking her gaze, he gently maneuvered her left hand isolating her ring finger so he could slide the ring onto it. She was expecting cool metal to touch her skin, but the silver was warm like the Darkling’s hands. The fit was perfect and it moved without hesitation into its rightful place. 

It was all suddenly too much for the poor girl. The beauty of the ring, the intensity of his smile, and the meaning of their exchanged words sinking into her. Alina burst into tears that coursed down her cheeks leaving burning tracks in their wake. If she had thought that her strangled  
‘yes’ was unattractive the ragged sob that escaped her was even more so.

Alina saw a look that flashed across the Darkling’s face.

Pity. 

Pity tinged with just a little bit of disgust. She reflexively went to pull away, out of his reach, but he suddenly pulled her into a tight embrace.

As their torsos touched the feeling of surety, of belonging, washed away all other emotions. She gasped at the sensation and returned the gesture by lifting her arms around him as well. She couldn’t remember the last time she had hugged him. 

When she was small he was much freer with his touches. He would carry her on his shoulders, let her cling to his leg, and sit on his lap while he read her stories of saints. But as she grew older he distanced himself from her by pointing out that she was becoming a lady now and needed to act accordingly. The change came slowly, but was firm and unrelenting. Alina’s only solace was the occasional hand holding or graze of fingers against fingers.

She tightened her grip around him. She was desperately happy and didn’t want to stop embracing him for anything.

“Alina.” He spoke her name into her hair. His voice was gentle, but had a firm tone of warning to it. 

She clung to him even harder.

He chuckled then gently extricated himself from her grasp. He held both of her wrists loosely in his hands, like shackles, as he looked down at her. The way he was holding her now was not as pleasant or close as before and she started to pout. It was ridiculous she knew, but she found that she couldn’t help herself.

“We will be married soon enough,” he said to her fondly.

“How soon?” she asked eagerly, not caring if she asked too quickly or sounded too desperate. 

“I want to stand as your equal at the altar. Before we are wed we must first get you an amplifier.” 

Alina immediately warmed to this idea. He had mentioned this before in passing and she had seen a few other grishas with amplifiers. They were objects imbued with the special science that increased the power of the grisha that owned it. They were rare and hard to obtain, and only the Darkling’s most favored grisha had them. Alina certainly fell into that category, but she had been told that her amplifier had to be special. ‘You deserve an amplifier as rare and powerful as you yourself, Alina. No simple mess of bones or bear claw would suffice for you, my sun summoner,’ he had once said. 

“You’ve decided then? Do you have it already? What is it?” She exclaimed in one breath.

“Morozova’s stag.”

At his words she went cold. All feelings of excitement drained from her as she looked at his now impassive face. There was no humor there, no crinkle or glimmer to his eyes. 

He was completely and horribly serious.

“No. That’s a creature of fairy tales. It’s not real.” Alina felt like she was on the edge of tears again. If he had said it in any other way, with any other look, she would have laughed at what had to be a joke. The idea that an imaginary creature would service as her amplifier should be laughable. So what was he implying? Why would he put an impossible condition on their relationship?

She pulled her wrists from his hands harder than she needed too. She tried to keep her voice steady and low but failed. “Why would you propose to me if you have no intention of marrying me?!” By the end of her sentence her voice rang out across the lake and echoed between them. The sun’s light was only a sliver on the horizon and the lazy breeze had become insistently cold. 

“Oh, its real. As real as you or me, Alina, and almost as powerful. They are ancient and rare, but they are and I am going to get one for you.” His eyes hardened at her reaction, but his own voice remained level and low. He reached up to tap a finger to her collar bone. “I will place the stag’s antlers here and you will be one of the most powerful grishas to have ever lived.”

A few moments of silence passed between them as the Darkling fervently looked into her eyes. She could feel the tip of his finger, warm and soft, pressed to her. It calmed her, grounded her… renewed her surety.

Still full of trepidation, she closed her eyes to take a deep shuddering breath then looked back at him with a passionate gaze to rival his own. 

“You promise?” She demanded.

“I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the plot thickens!
> 
> Also, just just JUST realized that golden plates could be a mormon reference which was NOT my intention. >.> It actually comes from the quote, "I would have dined off of golden plates, and I never would have struggled to use my power." But I like it, so I'm not gonna change it/ ^~^;
> 
> Anyways! I do hope you liked it! As it's my first fic I'm still pretty shy and worried about my writing style! Ah well.


	3. Expectation

Alina shifted restlessly in her chair which caused her engagement ring to glitter prettily in the sunlight.

She wanted to fling the thing into the lake.

It was always just sitting there, weighing down her hand more than it had any right to. The light it gave off seemed to mock her as she tried to pay close attention to the grisha instructor lecturing about the physics of light. She sat very still in the hopes that her attention would return to him. But even when she didn’t move, the tiny black diamonds surrounding the black opal seemed to shift easily in hue. 

It was infuriatingly distracting.

“Moya Soverennyi?” the instructor asked as he looked down his nose at her.

She flushed at being caught staring at the offending ring. Her attention span had narrowed considerably since it had been placed on her finger. 

“Could you please repeat the theory of wave propagation? Or would you find it more helpful to study refractive indexes now that you have that excellent example on your finger?” His voice was stretched thin with a familiar exasperation. 

Alina learned more by doing, not by being talked at. So she had never been very good at paying attention in her lectures before she had become the Darkling’s fiancé, but now she found herself to be completely useless. If her instructors had been asked, she was sure that they would agree.

Still, the backhanded comment grated on her. She had more respect than the average grisha pupil, but it was nowhere near the respect she felt she deserved. Nowhere near the respect that the Darkling garnered. She knew that respect had to be earned no matter what position one held, but still. When could she be done proving herself?

“No thank you,” she sighed then repeated the lesson as asked. She slid her hand to rest in her lap under the desk so that the light would stop distracting her, but she could still feel its insistent weight anchoring her to the ground.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get married. In fact, it was quite the opposite. After several months of no news she felt that restlessness was going to eat her from the inside out. She trusted the Darkling, knew that he would get her the special amplifier that was his condition for marriage, but the actual waiting was torture.

Somedays she felt like sneaking away in the night to hunt the stag herself. The idea of dragging it back to the Darkling, like a house cat, brought a little grin to her face. The instructor must have seen it as he shook his head, but he continued with the lesson anyways.

What was really bothering her right now was the fact that she was actually putting her trust in someone else entirely. A tracker. He was apparently young and new to the first army, but the most talented tracker anyone had seen in years. There was even a running joke that he could make rabbits out of rocks. 

But he was just an otkazat'sya, so who could really blame her for her disbelief?

‘Otkazat’sya’ were non-grisha. The word meant ‘the abandoned’ as they had no hope of ever knowing the small science. Alina tended to pity them as she could not even begin to imagine the wretchedness of what their lives must be like without the power that surged through her very being. Sure there were some skilled otkazat’sya, like the Darkling’s elite guards, the oprichniki, but they were far and few between. She could only hope that this otkazat’sya was one of the rare exceptions. He had to be if the Darkling had picked him. Right?

She gave a loud sigh. The type that could blow the thatch off of a roof if one wasn’t careful. The Darkling had promised, looking deep into her eyes. She would just have to be…

…patient.  
Honestly, she couldn’t think of a worse word.

At her loud sigh the instructor threw up his hands in surrender. He returned a forceful sigh of his own and was opening his mouth to most likely scold her when the door to the classroom was opened suddenly.

A dark figure stepped into the room causing the instructor to freeze in place then hastily stand to attention. Alina stood as well, causing her chair to scrape audibly across the floor. The instructor flinched at the sound, but the man in the black kefta, the Darkling himself, didn’t seem perturbed.

“You are dismissed.” He said to the other man, holding the door open for him to exit. The instructor gave no opposition and left the room briskly without hesitation. He didn’t even bother to pick up his things, leaving his books and chalk on the desk.

The Darkling waited for the door to close before he turned to Alina. When his eyes found her they changed from his impassive mask to a smile she hadn’t seen since her birthday.

“They found them.” He said almost breathlessly. “They found the herd!” 

The words and the look in his eyes was all that Alina needed. She launched herself across the classroom in a movement that caused several chairs to fall in her wake. Not caring if it was ridiculous or inappropriate she jumped at the Darkling, letting herself be caught and spun around in the air a few times.

They both laughed and the sounds seemed to harmonize and reverberate around the room. Unbidden, the shadows and the light seemed to waver together in a small dance of triumph mirroring the pair’s own twirls.

He set her down gently, but continued to hold her close to his chest. One hand clasped in hers and the other resting on the small of her back, he looked down at her with his rare smile. She looked up in awe, heart clenching at the sight. They spent some time like that, exchanging goofy grins, until Alina couldn’t stand it anymore and had to ask.

“When can we leave?”

“Tomorrow at first light. I’ve had the supplies ready since before your birthday,” he replied.  
She had not known that he was so prepared and warmed at the fact. Still she couldn’t help herself for asking, “Not tonight?” She knew she sounded desperate and was being rash, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

He said her name with a laugh and she could feel the vibration through their points of contact. “I’m glad to see that these long months haven’t given you cold feet, but even with my preparations these things take time.”

She blushed at obvious statement. She of course knew that. She was just so excited. And when he held her she felt no need for reason.

She wanted to pull him tighter into her, but to be more sensible she needed some distance. She loosened her grip and stepped back.

“Tomorrow then,” she repeated, “at first light.”

\----

It had taken a few days of hard travel before the Darkling’s caravan reached the base camp of the trackers. Their party was not overly large but it was a good size, consisting of the Darkling’s coach, Alina’s coach, 15 grisha and 10 oprichniki all on horses, 2 supply wagons, and a handful of extra horses including the Darkling’s mare. There were very few breaks and they did not bother to make camp along the way. The grisha and soldiers instead ate the majority of their meals when riding and slept under the stars by hastily made fires. Alina had the same routine, but in her own coach. 

The journey had been boring and uncomfortable. Her initial elation over the stag had dampened quickly once she was actually in her coach, every rut in the road jostling the excitement out of her. But they were at the base camp now and she didn’t feel like dwelling on the trip.

Instead she roamed around the camp stretching her legs and familiarizing herself with the layout. She watched as new tents were erected alongside the original tents of the trackers. The Darkling’s expansive tent was already set up towards the middle of the encampment and what was to be her tent was being set up on the edges, out of the way of the main action of the camp.

She both liked and disliked this arrangement. It had the benefit of added privacy, but could feel quite lonely at times. As it was, she wasn’t very close with any of the other grisha her age, excluding Genya, but she hardly left the Grand Palace. Alina looked forward to when she would be able to share the Darkling’s tent. It was the heart of everything. He was the heart of everything.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by first a solider. “Moya Soverennyi, the Darkling requests your presence in his tent.” The boy was about her age and she wondered if he was the lead tracker she had heard so much about. She hadn’t seen him with the other oprichnik on the trip so he had to have at least been in the tracker’s group. But, she guessed that the man who had found the stag would not be relegated to courier tasks.

She allowed herself to be led to the tent even though she had already familiarized herself with the camp. The solider lifted the flap of the entrance allowing her to step across the threshold uninhibited. She took the opportunity to gaze around the tent in awe.

It was arranged the same way every time but that never stopped her from marveling at its size, the intricate banners hung throughout, the large quantity of candles casting an almost magical light, and finally the sight of the Darkling on his throne, the seat next to his waiting to be filled by herself. Of course it wasn’t actually a throne, the Darkling would be the first to refute that fact. He wasn’t a king, but in many ways he was a king to Alina and she often thought of him thus in the privacy of her mind.

She walked slowly across the tent over the many throw rugs strewn about. The place was warmed by a small fire in the middle and she unwound the scarf around her neck in the comfortable warmth. She smiled at the Darkling, ignoring the other grisha in the tent completely. She sat on his right side and practically glowed with pride.

“Are you ready?” The Darkling asked quietly as she settled in her chair.

She reflexively nodded even though she wasn’t sure what she should be ready for. She tried not to pick nervously at the scarf that was now awkwardly sitting in her lap.

Not seeming to notice her anxious reaction the Darkling turned to the grisha standing on his left to give an order. “Bring them in.”

Still uncertain to what was going on, Alina stared intently at the entrance waiting to see who they would be speaking to. She guessed that it would be the group of trackers and she was not wrong.

Five men and a lone woman in first army uniforms entered the tent looking tired, but presentable. One man took the lead and the rest fell a few steps behind him. 

He was attractive. Very attractive with high cheekbones, sharp blue eyes, and a strong jaw. His hair was brown and so mussed that if it weren’t for his alert eyes or tidy uniform she would have guessed that he had just rolled out of bed. The messiness of his hair softened his rugged face which had a freshly healing scar on his cheek.

He was staring directly at her, those sharp eyes cutting through her and she could feel her breath hitch. Alina guessed that he was the tracker that had found her stag, but she was having a rare moment where that wasn’t at the front of her mind.

She was engaged to the Darkling, yes. But she wasn’t dead. 

Genya had pointed that out to her recently when asking if she thought Genya’s crush was cute. Alina had staunchly refused to pass judgement on the boy, using her engagement as an excuse. But really, she just had no idea what Genya saw in him. He was a studious fabricator, the best in his field, but completely oblivious to the world outside of it. He was actually a part of their current party, there to help make her amplifier, however her thoughts on him stopped there.

The man in front of her, however, was objectively gorgeous. Even if she hadn’t been pleased by his looks, she could see the reaction of many of the other grisha around her. Men and women alike stared at him in appreciation. One squaller, Zoya, even went so far as to whistle at him.

The lead tracker looked away from Alina then. When his eyes found Zoya the appreciation seemed to be mutual and he gave a quick smile before turning his attention to the Darkling.

That smile sent an irrational surge of jealously through Alina, but it also changed his face into something familiar to her. She searched it so intently that his conversation with the Darkling was almost lost to her.

She registered a few snippets about how he found the trail of the stag, the capability of himself and his party, and, most importantly, how soon the Darkling would have the stag in hand. But despite the relevancy of the conversation to her future, she couldn’t stop puzzling over that face.

It was like a word on the tip of one’s tongue or the irritation of an invisible grain of sand in one’s sock. It nagged at her mind so strongly that it drove her to distraction.

When the conversation seemed to be coming to a close, she couldn’t help but speak up. “You look familiar, Tracker. Have I seen you before?” She asked eyes fixed on his face, searching for that connection to some memory that she felt should be there.

Everybody in the tent stilled, unused to Alina talking out of turn or really talking at all. She stiffened a bit herself with embarrassment as the eyes of everyone in the room settle on her, but she persisted anyways to finish her questions. “Where are you from?”

He chose to answer her second question only and unlike many of the others in the tent he did not look surprised at her outburst. “Keramzin, Moya Soverennyi.”

Like his face, his voice had a familiar feeling to it that she couldn’t place. But at the name “Keramzin,” she had a sudden collection of fractured memories: A stern woman standing over her trying to force her to eat some type of vile-pale mush, a long bannister similar to those in the little palace, but somehow less grand and a bit worn down… 

…small hands clasped in the dark like little ghosts. 

She wanted to hear more, understand more, but before she could speak again the Darkling shifted in the throne next to hers. “That will be enough, tracker,” He spoke in a quiet, but firm voice tinted with what sounded like warning. Then, fixing his gaze on the rest of the group he announced that they were all free to go to dinner and have the rest of the evening off. It was an award for their service, an opportunity for them to rest before they set out again, and a dismissal.

Alina was a bit frustrated at the interruption, but if the Darkling didn’t think the tracker’s story was worth hearing, then it probably wasn’t. She settled back into her chair. If anything he had mostly likely saved her from some rambling otkazat'sya tale. Her irritation fled her quickly and she smiled a little to herself, always pleased to bask in his protection.

Without pause the trackers and grisha filed out of the room quietly, but upon exiting Alina could hear their whoops and cheers which were audible though distorted and made quiet by the thick fabric of the tent. 

The lead tracker was the last to go. He walked slower than the rest and as he lifted the flap of the tent he directed a quick, searching look over his shoulder at her. It only lasted a second, the flap immediately falling shut behind him, but Alina’s stomach did a little flip when their eyes locked for a final time. 

She hastily looked away as a guilty twist replaced the light, flipping sensation. She was engaged, happily engaged, to the Darkling. They were destined for each other. Connected by a bond so powerful that it sometimes overwhelmed her.

So how could some lowly otkazat'sya boy have captured her attention so whole heartedly? Why was the feeling of unknown familiarity so strong when she looked at him?

Trying to puzzle out her own thoughts and emotions she turned to look at the Darkling. She had been expecting him to be reviewing the stack of papers that were always piling up at his elbow, but he was instead looking at her with an impassive face.

Alina felt heat surge to her cheeks. Even to this day she sometimes had the feeling that he could read her mind, prying into her very soul with his eyes alone. Did he know? Could he read the treacherous thoughts she was thinking?

“Is everything alright?” He asked in his low voice.

Alina’s guilt was magnified as he directed his concerned gaze at her. Of course he couldn’t read her thoughts, he just cared about her and could see that for some reason she was distressed.

“Solnishko?” he prodded again and her flush intensified, but for a new reason. She loved it when he called her his sunshine.

He reached over to grab her left hand, her ring hand, and her feelings of guilt evaporated.

“Of course, Moi Soverennyi,” she said and she meant it. Feeling the warmth of his hand on hers and looking into his grey eyes she could forget anything and everything. 

All of her guilt and confusion seemed to evaporate and her thoughts of the tracker were shoved from her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we get to see a bit of Mal (and a little bit of Zoya too)! This chapter was longer than the first two chapters combined! lol I guess I could have split it up but I felt that the 1st half didn't move the plot along enough. I have been having so much fun writing this and the next chapter is almost done so it will be up soon! I have also started to name the chapters.  
> Anyways, I hope you liked this one! *^-^*


	4. Unfamiliar

Alina fell into her cot that night with a small, pleased sigh. She stretched away some of the tension that long travel had worked into her muscles and could almost hear them creak. She had the luxury of a coach, but that had still felt cramped and uncomfortable. Often she wished that she could forgo the coach all together and ride on horseback with the other grisha and soldiers. The Darkling did sometimes. Choosing to switch between his own coach or saddle at will.

At the very least she wished that she could ride in the Darkling’s coach. It was bigger than her own, but more importantly she wanted his company. Her own coach was so lonely with no one to talk to but her own reflection in the window. She tried to entertain herself with her studies, sketch book, and even the small, but continuous stack of paperwork that the Darkling was slowly starting to direct towards her. But the dull and monotonous ache of boredom that the coach generated often made her apathetic and killed all motivation. In the past she tried to amuse herself by playing with the light, but it always managed to sneak out of the coach, blinding those nearby and spooking the horses.

When Alina was at her loneliest she imagined flinging open the window to start a conversation with anyone who was there to listen. That would be very inappropriate though and would only make whoever talked to her uncomfortable. They had their jobs to do and she had hers. She could only hope that once she had the amplifier and was as strong as the Darkling he would loosen some of his protective hold. 

She stretched in her cot again, letting her mind wander over the course of the day. The nights were becoming chilly, but she did not want to confine herself with blankets. She instead rolled over onto her side and forced her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep.

After a few minutes that felt longer even than the slow tread of the coach, she gave up. She rose from the cot into a sitting position. Her body and mind were tired, but from a lack of use not exertion, and she knew she needed to do something to rid herself of her restlessness before she could sleep.

Fully rising now, she strode across the room to pick out some clothes from her trunk; a thick wool kefta that she covered her nightgown with and her favorite pair of soft leather boots. Now that she was standing the press of fabric on her skin didn’t seem as restricting and she welcomed the added warmth it gave her.

Quietly she snuck across her tent to the back where she had discovered the tarps did not quite overlap. She hesitated a moment before lifting the flap. When she heard no voices or footsteps she climbed out stealthily and walked straight into the forest.

It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. She was allowed to take nighttime walks and often did. But, she knew that he would want her to take some guards with her. If she had exited from the front of the tent there would have been at least one solider there who would have insisted on accompanying her. But despite the lonesome day she still wanted some time to herself, to be herself without other’s expectations.

If she had brought a well-meaning guard or two she wouldn’t feel as free. This way she could set the pace, fast or slow, without hesitation or consideration. If she wanted to pause to hear the night she wouldn’t have to wait for other’s feet to fall silent first.

And while he was only looking out for her, being extra careful, Alina didn’t want second hand protection from the Darkling. She didn’t feel that she needed the protection. She knew that barring him, she was the strongest grisha to have ever lived. The Darkling also knew this, telling her so himself during their too infrequent training sessions. Yet he still wanted her to have at least one guard with her always, when the only protection she wanted was by his hands alone.

She walked onwards with a steady pace for about half an hour until her wandering mind and feet brought her into a small, irregularly shaped clearing and she paused on its edge. The peaceful clearing almost looked like a fried egg with darkened edges where the trees met the forest floor and a lone circle of moonlight resting in its center. The ground was lumpy, but covered in moss giving it a soft, inviting look. If it had been her intention she thought she could fall asleep in one of the shallow features, her head resting on a particularly thick section of moss.

Now that she had stopped walking she felt the night’s chill pressing into her. The kefta she wore was long and thick, but didn’t fully cover her legs sticking out from under her light nightgown. She felt a cold breeze starting to circle around her ankles radiating upwards to her knees, and shivered. She closed her eyes softly as the last feelings of restlessness left her alone with her exhaustion.

“Are you cold?” The silent peace of the clearing was broken by a voice that was soft, but strong. 

She jumped out of her skin, eyes snapping open and head whipping around to find the source of the noise. Her body took the defensive stance that she had been trained to take. Hands raised with feet anchored to the ground, she was ready to use the cut if she had too. It would be the first time using it on a living thing, but she was ready and, a small part of her noted, excited even.

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows from the direction of the original sound. She stiffened, preparing to slice, but as the moonlight hit his face she hesitated.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…”

The light revealed a grey uniform, the tracker who had spoken to her earlier. His voice sounded sincere and a bit sad. She found herself automatically lowering her guard and a little wave of shame hit her. She had been prepared to kill before she even knew who was on the end of her attack. 

Wrapped up in her own thoughts and still adjusting herself to his sudden presence, she waited for him to continue. But he didn’t and the quite settled around them again. Looking into his shadowed eyes she felt captured again in his gaze.

His eyes were wide and searching with his brow slightly furrowed. His mouth was just open enough to allow for the thin exchange of steam into the cold night. It felt like he was waiting for something, for Alina to say something, even though he was the one who had stopped mid-sentence.

He did not look as familiar to her as he had earlier in the candle light of the tent. The overhead moonlight created shadows which accentuated the concave parts of his features. It gave a cold, stone like look to his face, his scar no longer raised flesh, but instead a crack in the stone. A few more long seconds passed with him saying nothing and Alina was preparing to break apart the reformed silence herself when he whispered.

“You don’t remember me do you.” A statement more than a question, full of regret. “Earlier in the tent… I thought you had, but…” His voice faltered again and he looked miserable.

Alina suddenly wanted to cross the clearing and console him from whatever made him look so sad, but she was nervous and uncertain and unused to talking to first army soldiers. Instead she replied distantly, “I’m sorry. Have we met before today?”

His throat bobbed visibly in the soft light, but he remained silent.

In the absence of his side of the conversation she felt judged and insecure. She suddenly became annoyed at him for disrupting the lonesome walk she knew she should not be on. Making a tsking sound of irritation in the back of her throat she started to turn back to the camp.

“Alina, wait!” no longer a whisper, but not a shout, his frantic words made her freeze in her steps. 

She could count the number of people allowed to call her by her first name on the fingers of her hands. And this otkazat'sya was not one of them. 

She was the sun summoner, fiancé of the Darkling, “Moya Soverennyi.” 

She was not Alina to him.

Another surge of annoyance filled her, this time more rational and directed. She turned back to him and took a few steps forward. She could feel herself glaring, heat rising to her cheeks at the insult, her voice was a harsh whisper.

“How dare you! You ot-“

Her words were cut short at the sight of tears streaming down his face. 

So startled by his unexpected tears she was shocked into stillness and made no movement to avoid him when his hand snaked out towards her wrist.

His large fingers curled around her wrist, still thinner than most, even after all her well-fed years in the Little Palace. Despite the speed of his movement his fingers closed together softly, almost like clasp of a bracelet.

Alina felt a rush of searing heat and light fill her. It pooled behind her eyes, scorched down her throat, and rocked through the very core of her being. She wrenched free of the soldier’s grip so violently that it caused them both to fall backwards from the force.

She landed on the moss, which was decidedly not as soft as it looked, causing her tailbone and wrists to thrum with pain. Bright spots of light speckled her vision and Alina heaved for a second threatening to throw up. The spots inverted and became black blights on her vision. Her chest constricted and she scrabbled to loosen the buttons of her kefta that had been fastened up to her throat for warmth.

With the fabric loosened she was able to get in more air with each breath. And after a few panting moments she started to readjust to the light of the clearing. She looked across it and spotted the boy sprawled out in a similar fashion.

“What did you do to me?” she croaked roughly, the words scraping through her already raw throat.

The boy raised himself slightly to look at her, his face a picture of confusion. He gave a strangled cry, but seemed unable to respond further. 

Alina didn’t know what was happening. The boy didn’t seem to either, but…

It didn’t matter. Alina needed to get out of there now and back to what was familiar and safe. She shot up from the ground. Her heart was beating its way out of her chest and upon standing she thought that she might faint. She swayed on her feet, almost falling, then used the momentum to swing about. She started to run blindly through the forest. If she heard her name again sounding distantly behind her, she did not stop her progress.

She ran fast and hard, her feat beating on the forest floor with desperation. She ran like the boy in her dreams. And as she ran she went over what had just happened in her mind.

She had felt a power so deep and intense that it threatened to consume her. The power was nothing that she had ever felt before, even when the Darkling held her hand in his. There was a twisting mass of emotion in her chest and her mind struggled to figure out what had just happened.

When she was able to see the first lights of the camp she stuttered to a halt and at the same time let her mind shut away the roiling thoughts. She couldn’t go barreling into the camp. It would only bring attention to her lone nighttime walks and could very well get the soldier in trouble. Despite his insult to her and whatever else had happened in the forest she found that she did not want that.

She patted down her hair and steadied her breathing. Now that she was standing still the chill of the night worked its way around and under her clothes again. Her chest was particularly cold and she looked down. She had forgotten that she had scrambled to unbutton her kefta and she found that her chest was almost fully exposed, only covered by a thin swath of white silk.

She blushed intensely as she worked to close the buttons of the coat. She had been too cautious to run through the camp when she thought she was fully dressed. And she now pictured herself bursting through the forest with her chest falling loose from her bedraggled top. She shuddered to think of implication and repercussions that would have created. 

Once she that she had gained some control over her physiology she crept back towards the camp and into the safety of her tent. She lifted the loose flap carefully and when it closed softly behind her she let out a sigh of relief. Now bone tired, she fell onto the bed, not even bothering to remove the thick kefta.

She fell into a fitful sleep, her body still feeling like it was radiating power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this chapter so much! I actually started it before I had finished chapter 3 or even started chapter 2! As this is my first fan fic, or really any writing with a purpose, I'm so proud of my self for even getting this far! I hope you are all liking the series as much as I am! *^-^*


	5. Utterances

Anya Kuya’s face was the personification of the word ‘dour’ with her thin lips pressed into an even thinner line, her chin titled up severely, and her eyes narrowed into an unwavering gaze. Even at her young age Alina knew that this would be her point of reference for any and all sourness in her life. The standard by which she measured the unpleasantness of being at the mercy of other’s demands.

Anya Kuya thrust a spoonful of pale, vile mush at her. “What? Do you think you are the Tsaritsa herself? You’re lucky to be getting food at all. Eat it, you skinny girl!” 

It didn’t pass Alina’s notice that the older woman was also thin. The hand clutching the spoon in front of her face had long narrow fingers with each knobbly knuckle well defined and turning white in its deathly grip.

“You should talk!” she retorted. Defiance ran through the little girl’s blood and she practically spat the words back at the woman.

Anya Kuya recoiled at the offense as if she had been slapped. Her eyes narrowed until they were little more than slits and Alina felt a pit of regret starting to grow in her stomach. The girl tensed and closed her eyes in preparation for the smack she thought was coming.

Instead she heard the clatter of a spoon and felt the resulting splatter of food on her hands. She opened her eyes to see Ana Kuya’s retreating figure.

“You aren’t leaving this room until you finish your food, you insufferable thing!” She called over her shoulder before she slammed the door to the dining room behind her.

Alina could practically feel the vibrations of the door as it closed. ‘Like the lid of a coffin’ she thought mournfully. She could easily be locked in the room until morning, maybe longer. Resignedly she picked up the spoon, still warm from Ana Kuya’s thin fingers. She moved to shovel the slop but was interrupted by a low psst.

“Alina!” Her name was spoken in whispered shout, louder than if the voice had been speaking at a regular volume. Confused, she looked around the room. She couldn’t see anyone until a gleeful face peeked out from under the table.

“Mal!” she replied, her voice also taking the whispered tone. Her face broke out into a grin then transformed into worry. “What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you, of course!” His grin widened, making him look almost deranged. “Pass me the bowl.”

She easily complied and gave him the spoon too, but rolled her eyes while doing so. “You’re going to get in trouble,” she warned, but he dug in heartily. “How can you eat that stuff? It tastes worse than ashes.” She crinkled her nose in disgust as the food vanished at an alarming pace.

“Tastes okay to me.” He mumbled, mouth full of pale mush.

When there was only about a spoonful and some residue left Alina reached back down for the bowl. He stopped, spoon in hand with a puzzled look. “I’m not done though,” he said as a bit of the mush fell from his lips back into the bowl.

“She’ll never believe I ate the whole thing. Now hide!” She took the bowl and spread some of the slop over the corners of her mouth just to be extra convincing. She winced in disgust as some of it got in her mouth. How could Mal have eaten it with such gusto?

“I’m done!”

\----

The wood of the long banisters was worn with age and frequent use, but they were better off than the steps that seemed to sag in the middle like old curtains. Alina could even see some of the raw wood where the protective resin had failed its job. Despite the distressed look the structure was sound. It had been made well and could still bear the necessary weight even as its intricate carving were worn away.

That wasn’t what Alina cared about though. Her focus was solely on beating the boy next to her to the bottom of the stair case. They were each clutched to the top of the tall banisters, ready to slide down at the end of…

“1, 2, 3, 4… Go!” She called, taking off a split second before her competitor.

She could feel her hands and behind start to warm with friction, but the unpleasant sensation was nothing compared to the exhilarating feeling of wind rushing through her hair.

“No fair!” The boy whined with desperation as he slid down behind Alina. Unlike the girl, he wasn’t using his hands to stabilize himself and he started to accelerate faster and faster. Despite his reckless abandon it still wasn’t enough to beat her head start.

Suddenly the banister ran out from underneath the girl and she was tumbling through the air. She landed with a painful thud and rolled a little. One of her knees burned with the telltale pain of a skinned knee. It didn’t matter though, she had won and proclaimed her victory with pride.

The boy followed soon after, but his dismount was much smoother than her own. He landed on both feet causing the floor to shake with his impact. Wobbling a little, but staying upright he glared at the girl. “You cheated!”

Despite the glare she could still see a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he fought back a smile. Shoving herself up to a standing position she laughed and taunted him further. “Can’t prove it!”

At that he grinned fully and started to bolt up the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Race you to the top!” He exclaimed over his shoulder.

“Mal!” It was her turn to whine and she followed suit, ignoring the pain in her knee as she ascended. “No fair!”

\----

The cupboard was cold and pitch black. She couldn’t even see her hands when held directly in front of her face. As she crouched in the confined place she could feel her muscles start to burn with the effort.

“Where have those melenchki run off to now? It’s past bedtime!” An annoyed voice exclaimed distantly.

She could feel the rattle of footsteps as the person stomped past her hiding place. She forced herself not to breathe. If she didn’t breathe she wouldn’t be able to giggle.

Once the footsteps faded she gasped for the air that she had been denying her lungs.

“Shh!” the voice next to her whispered. “They’ll find us!”

She used the hands that she couldn’t see to muffle her uncontrollable giggle. It was infectious and the boy started to giggle as well.

“I can hear you! And when I find you…” the angry voice stopped their quiet laughter cold.

A trickle of fear ran down Alina’s spine. “Mal?” She whispered into the dark as she reached out a hand. She explored the ground next to her, searching.

His hand was searching as well and when they met they scrabbled together.

“I’m here,” he whispered back. 

Their little hands were clasped tightly in the dark and Alina never wanted to let go.

“Don’t let go?” she asked nervously.

“Never.”

\----

Alina woke with a start. She didn’t know where she was and she sat up quickly. Eyes adjusting to the early morning light she realized that she was in her tent. She shifted uncomfortably and worked to unstick her heavy wool kefta from her sweaty skin. She hadn’t bothered to remove it before she fell into her cot that night and it had been too warm under her heavy fur blankets.

Fragments of her dreams swirled around in her mind, not quite finding purchase. She struggled to remember them, but they floated away like lazy butterflies.

These dreams were different. She either had her nightmare about the boy with messy brown hair or she didn’t dream at all. But unlike with the all-too-familiar nightmares, she didn’t feel weighted down with loss, instead she felt lighter than she had in a while.

Despite the sweaty fabric sticking to her and her travel-sore body she had a small smile on her face. She reached up to touch it with her right hand, as if trying to recall the feeling of a kiss. She fell back onto the bed and shut her eyes, willing herself to remember.

‘Keramzin’

The lone word. Really a name, was the only thing that came to her. She couldn’t recall any images. Just that one word.

‘Keramzin’

She felt like it should be familiar, but she couldn’t place it…

A morning bell rang out and she shook herself from her contemplation. She hurriedly worked to make herself presentable by brushing her hair then changing into her black travel kefta. Thinking of the long day of coach travel before her she could almost push the confusion from   
her mind. But as she lifted the front flap of her tent the word rang out insistent in her mind and she couldn’t ignore it.

‘Keramzin’

She thought it with different inflections, rolled it around, approached it from different directions, and let it repeat itself with every beat of her heart.

It was all she thought of as she ate breakfast by herself quickly, sitting on a low rock at the edge of the camp. Once the party was packed and ready to go, she settled into her lonesome coach.

‘Keramzin, Keramzin, Keramzin’

She sighed. This was going to be a long day.

Almost like a phrase of agreement she whispered out the word. Her lips moved around it easily, with the recognition that her mind seemed to lack. She had said the word before and said it often. But when?

She heard the crack of a whip and felt the resulting jerk of the coach as the horses pulled it forward.

They travelled almost the entire day, not bothering to stop more than 10 minutes for lunch. The pace was slow and arduous as the road narrowed to a path. Despite the slowed trek, the coach continued to shudder heavily over every bump as the ground became more and more uneven. Alina could feel bruises starting to form as she was jostled around the coach.

She knew she should be studying or taking a stab at some of the paperwork. But even if she had been able to concentrate, she didn’t think that she would be able to keep pen to paper or eyes to words with the movement of the coach.

Besides, she had so much to think about. The dreams that she couldn’t quite remember called for her attention with the familiar-unfamiliar name ‘Keramzin.’ Once she had poked and prodded at the word in her mind more times than she could count an image finally came to her.

The tracker’s handsome face.

Specifically, the way his small smile at Zoya’s praise had transformed it into something familiar and almost soft. Then, the unfamiliar way his face had looked in the moonlight, like a cracked statue.

She smacked herself on the forehead hard enough that it brought tears to her eyes. How could she have forgotten her nighttime escapade so easily? She had been so concerned about remembering the dreams that she had almost put aside a the more pressing matter.

She rubbed at the spot more gently now, trying to ease the sting, as the memories of her walk flashed before her. Unlike the dreams, she could remember every detail and winced with embarrassment and confusion.

Their conversation had been so awkward and Alina still had no idea what the tracker had been talking about. He had thought that she should remember him, but she didn’t. At least, she didn’t think she did. She agreed that his face looked familiar, but that could just be a fluke or a resemblance to someone else.

The sadness in his eyes though. The way his tears had run unchecked down his cheeks, one of the trails slightly distorted by his scar. He looked so sincere and Alina was inclined to believe his emotions even if she didn’t believe his words.

“Alina,” he had called her. Like they were friends. At the time she had been insulted that he referred to her so casually, but now she realized that he hadn’t been trying to mock or belittle her. He was just trying to hold onto her for some reason that she couldn’t even guess at. Was that so wrong?

The hand that had been rubbing her forehead fell to her wrist as she recalled the feeling of his fingers encircling it. 

Power.

Power like she had never felt before. It had filled her to the brim then poured out around her until she was completely submerged in it.

It was fierce and burned, but it had also been bliss. 

She regretted pulling away.   
She wished that he had never touched her.  
She regretted not having his grip sooner.  
She wished that his fingers could become permanent around her.

Her heart beat furiously and she thought it might burst from the need and the hunger and the want. 

She felt ruined, like nothing else would ever be enough. 

She wanted that power. Needed that power.

And it terrified her.

\----

When the day’s ride finally drew to a close she all but flew out of the coach. The trip had seemed endless and she was exhausted. It wasn’t just her body that had been bruised, it felt like her brain had been flipped and rolled around in her head.

She didn’t bother to familiarize herself with the camp that day. Instead she followed the path they had taken to a nearby pond she had seen on the way. She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t avoiding anyone. She just needed to stretch her legs.

It didn’t take long to get to the pond. Finding a large rock on the its edge she tested it a bit with her foot. It seemed sturdy enough despite being partially submerged in the water. Still, she took care when sitting down. When it didn’t even twitch under her weight and she relaxed into the position.

She skimmed the water with her fingers ignoring the painful chill it created. Frost was starting to form at some of the areas where the water kissed the shore. Despite the discomfort the sensation was oddly comforting. She stayed that way for a while, playing with the water like she would the light.

When she could no longer feel her hand she stopped and let the water settle. Once it did, she groaned at her reflection. Shadows lined the bottom of her eyes and she had a bright red mark on her forehead. It would be obvious to anyone that she had not slept well and what would they think of the mark?

“Alina?”

She thought she could just barely hear her name whispered in the wind. She stood up suddenly and almost fell off of her rock as she searched for the noise. When she couldn’t find it she resigned herself to staring across the pond. Hugging her arms to her chest she tried to convince herself that she hadn’t heard the whisper to begin with.

“Moya Soverennyi?”

This time she yelped at the voice clearly sounding behind her. She turned rapidly and lost her footing as she did. She careened backwards and could then see the shocked expression of the first army soldier who had escorted her to the Darkling’s tent the night before.

He recovered from the surprise quickly and lunged forward grabbing her wrist painfully. She was jerked back to the shore and fell clumsily into his chest. 

They stood that way for a few panting breaths then separated like two wrong ends of a magnet. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and she cast her eyes to the ground as a blush spread across her face.

He mumbled an apology. She said nothing. The solider shifted nervously then said “The Darkling requests your company for dinner.”

She didn’t even look up at the words, just started to walk back to the camp, her cheeks burning. He quickly caught up to her and then led the way.

With his back to her, she started to rub the sore wrist hoping it wouldn’t bruise. 

She hadn’t felt it, the power, and found herself missing it fiercely. It seemed her tracker was special in more ways than one and that scared her more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this chapter! It was a bit hard to write some of it. Alina spends a lot of time with her own thoughts and I didn't wan't it to get repetitive! (#’ω`#)੭ My chapters seem to have settled around 2000-300 words. Maybe I should have combined chapter 1 &2? lol Who cares about character count anyways.   
> The next chapter is already in the works, but we are coming to the end of my outline so after that chapters might come at a slower pace! :3


	6. Temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential trigger warning of broken bones. It's only described in 1 sentence with no gore, but I thought I'd throw it out there!

As Alina entered the Darkling’s tent she immediately felt some of her tension dissipate. The familiar surroundings were like a balm to her frayed nerves and she was always eager to spend time with her fiancé.

He was already seated at the small table they used for dinner. There was a much larger table in the center of the tent, but its size made it difficult to pass the salt. It was also usually covered with a mess of maps and important paperwork.

He stood up politely at her entrance and greeted her. “Thank you for joining me, Alina.”

“Thank you for having me, Moi Soverenny,” she replied with a smile as she settled into her chair.

The meal was simple; a rabbit stew, some brown, nutty bread, and kvas to drink. It was the same meal that the other grisha and soldiers were eating outside the tent. The rabbit had probably been caught that day by the trackers along the way.

They ate for a while in a comfortable silence and as they did Alina observed the Darkling. He looked as pristine as ever, no hair out of place or wrinkle to his kefta. There was no evidence of the hard travel they had done. Alina knew that she was in complete contrast, with every mile written into the shadows under her eyes, tangled hair, and creased kefta.

As if reading her mind, he broke the silence. “You look tired,” he said bluntly.

Alina let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh causing him to frown slightly in confusion and she responded with a lighter giggle. “What? Am I not the picture of a blushing bride to be after several days of long travel?”

Catching on to her teasing, he chuckled a little at the joke, but continued his line of questioning seriously. “Is the pace too hard on you? You’ve never had to travel this hard before, so it would be understandable.”

“No,” she sighed, “I just haven’t slept well. Bad dreams.”

The moment the words were out of her mouth she wanted to grab them from the air before they could reach the Darkling’s ears. How could she have been so careless?

His face transformed with anger. His brow furrowed and the muscles in his cheeks clenched. Although Alina had seen his anger before it was still a terrible sight to behold every time. Her heart started to beat in her throat and she held her breath.

The way he looked at her made her want to cower under the table in fear. It always had. 

\----

Once when she was about 12 Alina got it into her mind that she wanted to climb to the top of the tallest tree on palace grounds. Surprising both herself and the other grisha children who had been goading her on she did just that. She had clutched the top branch triumphantly letting out a whooping cheer. But she had overestimated the strength of the branch and when it inevitably snapped she tumbled to the ground.

By some odd luck she managed to land on her feet, breaking her fall a bit before she fully crumpled to the ground. She sustained a transverse fracture to her left tibia and a large spiral fracture running the length of her right femur, but at least her bones had not broken the skin.

She blacked out from the pain and awoke to the startling sight of the Darkling’s furious face over her. His normally pristine black hair was tousled like he had been running an agitated hand through it.

“What were you thinking?” he shouted at her causing her eyes to grow wide.

“You could have died, Alina!” His voice had been frantic with his discontent and she shrunk into the ground with fear.

“Never do that again! Do you hear me? Never!” The Darkling’s shouts were so loud that it hurt her ears. She had seen him angry before and even towards her, but this was beyond anything she had experienced and she started to sob. 

Even at the sight of her tears he didn’t back down. “Promise me, Alina! Promise me that you will never do anything so reckless again!”

Despite her overwhelming fear and guilt, she managed to choke out a strangled “I pr-promise,” in a voice that sounded pathetic even to her ears.

At her words, much of the tension that had been radiating from the Darkling dissolved suddenly. His shoulders slumped and he had almost seemed to deflate in front of her. This was even more alarming than his anger and Alina started another round of tears.

“Oh, Solnishko.” Looking at her pityingly he sighed and collected her into his arms, carrying her all the way back to her room in the Little Palace. She had been bed-bound for weeks after that as even the most skilled grisha healers couldn’t fully heal her extensive fractures with the small science alone. She required time to heal naturally as well. 

\----

There was also a time more recently when she was 15. She had been wheedling the Darkling for months to finally teach her the cut. She had only seen him do it a few times, but she was both captivated and scared by the feat.

Her awe had won out over the fear and she was desperate to learn the move. She knew it was difficult and dangerous, but if the Darkling could do it, she felt she could too.

At the time there had been increased tension with Fjerda and he was more frequently away from the Little Palace. And even when he was home, he had not had enough time for any of their private lessons. She was aching for attention from him and wanted to be closer to him in any way possible.

After what had to be the hundredth time she begged he finally gave in, an exasperated sigh breaking its way through his impassive mask. She had been unable to contain her glee herself.

That evening he took her to the small deserted hut on the outskirts of the palace grounds. They often did their practicing there as it was out of the way of everything. Or, at least, that was Alina’s guess. She wasn’t actually sure why they practiced there. The space was quite cramped and dark compared to the training rooms of the little palace. It was also very cold, even on the hottest days.

The Darkling refused to light a fire in the large hearth that took up a fair amount of space in the room. It didn’t look like there was anything wrong with it, no visible damage to it or the exterior chimney. There was even a neat stack of firewood in the grate that had sat untouched for as long as she could remember. But every time Alina had asked about it she had been shut down with curt answers. So, she had long since questioned it, instead always remembering to bring extra layers even in the middle of summer.

He started out the lesson with a demonstration that had her on the edge of her seat. He had placed an apple on the top of a stool and painstakingly sliced layer after layer off of it. Each one was so thin that Alina could see through it. All the while he lectured about the importance of precision and being sure to aim at only what you were absolutely sure you wanted to cut.

He was beautiful as he sliced effortlessly through the air. The only sign of strain a slight furrow to his brow as he worked. If she wasn’t so eager to learn she might have lost herself in the sight.

He had just started to describe how to hone the shadows, or in Alina’s case the light, into a blade when they had been interrupted by more Fjerdan news. She had wanted to scream in frustration, but was immediately calmed when the Darkling had reached out to hold her hand.

“We’ll finish the lesson when I get back Alina, I promise. In the meantime, I do not want you trying it without me. Okay? It’s too dangerous.”

At the time she had agreed with no hesitation. But a month of his absence with no news and she was starting to grow restless. After her daily lessons had concluded she snuck down to the hut with a bag of apples in one hand and an extra kefta in the other.

She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she felt that she couldn’t help herself. The hut was almost untouched from their last lesson so she quickly put on the extra layer and set an apple on the stool in the middle of the room.

She concentrated on the apple intently, like it was the center of everything. Then she brought the light to her, folding it over on itself over and over, compressing it into an infinitely thin, but dense blade. Finally, she raised her hand, ready to bring down the blade she had formed in a slicing motion.

But before she could, she heard the door to the hut start to open. Her concentration shattered and with it the light. It hurtled in a large mass towards the apple consuming it fully and moving past it, hitting the hearth dead on.

The apple and the top of the stool had completely disintegrated leaving only its legs, still standing, but smoldering at their tops. The hearth itself had come to life, instantly filling the room with an intense heat as it burned.

Alina had fallen backwards with the force of her blow which was probably for the best as the sight on the Darkling’s face as he entered the room probably would have caused her legs to buckle. He took in the scene before him; Alina on the ground, the smoldering remains of the stool, and finally the burning fireplace.

His face was thunderous and she practically cowered in fear not knowing what to expect.

Shadows suddenly snaked across the room to smother both the stool and the hearth. The room fell into darkness disproportionate to the amount of light lost from the flames. 

The shadows then worked their way in on Alina, crawling up her body and tangling into her hair. They were slick and cold and utterly terrifying. Her whole body was quickly becoming heavy with shadows as they worked to consume her. She didn’t know what to do and was unable to move to call the light to her.

Then, as quickly as they had come, they were suddenly gone without warning, as if they had never been there.

The Darkling looked at her with a terrible expression on his face that sliced through her more thoroughly than the cut ever could. She couldn’t quite place the look before he turned and exited the hut without a word. The door slammed behind him and she could feel the vibrations shudder through her.

She stayed that way for a while, not moving to get up. Whether it was hours or minutes that passed before she got to her feet she couldn’t be certain. She walked back to the Little Palace clutching her arms to herself, futilely trying to banish a chill that had worked its way into her heart.

Almost five wordless months had passed between Alina and the Darkling. They shared no letters nor meals nor lessons. Alina had never felt time pass slower.

Then one day she was summoned to the hut. Not knowing what to expect she had walked slowly, weighted down by so many emotions. When she finally crossed the threshold she was surprised to see a new apple and stool in the center of the room.

The Darkling stood next to it, his face taking his usual impassive mask. Without any preamble he continued the lesson right where they had left off and they never spoke of the time in between the two lessons again.

\----

The fury the Darkling had expressed those times stuck out to Alina as they were the angriest in her memory. They also made sense. Cause and effect. Crime and punishment.

But the anger that he had expressed when Alina talked about her nightmares always confused her. It wasn’t like she wanted to have them or could even control them. She had tried everything. They had tried everything.

When she was little she had the nightmare nightly, giving them plenty of opportunities to experiment. They had tried warm milk, bedtime stories, lullabies, warm compresses, cool compresses, meditation, stretches, and even a thimble of kvas, but nothing seemed to help. As much as she had liked his attention to help her get to bed, she dreaded his anger in the morning when she guiltily admitted to another dream.

Eventually Alina had started to lie. Not every night, she had to make it convincing of course. They had just started to try praying to the saints, an act of desperation on the Darkling’s part, and Alina latched on to the excuse.

Slowly, but surely she stopped reporting the nightmares and eventually he stopped asking. Then, much to Alina’s surprise and relief, she started to have them less and less.

Still, dreams were a sticky subject which she actively tried to avoid. She was usually even hesitant to talk about how she slept. But the stress of the trip seemed to have worn down her caution and she now found herself on the side of the Darkling’s unbearable anger.

“I had thought,” he started in a voice that was like a drawn bow string, dangerous and taut, “that you were over those dreams.” Although each of his words was carefully measured and precise there was nothing calm in his tone.

Alina felt pinned down by his gaze and her heart started to beat in her ears. Her mouth went dry, but she didn’t dare reach for her kvas. It was like she was staring down a rabid dog where any sudden movement could be seen as provocation.

Rationally she knew that the Darkling would never hurt her, but for some reason the thought gave no reassurance. When he looked at her like that, it was like a primal fear took over.

The hairs at the nape of her neck started to prickle to attention as she wracked her mind for the right thing to say. When she finally settled on an answer she tried to produce some saliva to moisten her mouth, but it did not come and her voice came out hoarsely.

“I am over them. And I honestly can’t remember the last time I had one.” She also spoke with careful precision, each word feeling like a rough stone in her mouth. But unlike the Darkling her precision was born of fear, not anger.

He had a dubious expression on his face and even thought she knew she deserved his mistrust, she was lying after all, the look still stung. 

She tried again, this time her words coming out in a panicked tumble, “Really! These dreams are completely different. I-“

“How?”

She faltered at his question. “W-what?”

“How. Are. They. Different?” His tone was still stretched thin, like he was talking to a difficult child.

Even if she could fully remember her dreams, she had the sinking feeling that she wouldn’t want to share them anyways. Opening and closing the drawers of her mind frantically, she pulled out the first idea that came to her.

“I keep dreaming that I’m walking down the aisle and then I’m naked and I don’t know where my clothes have gone to, or if I was ever wearing any, and I can’t find anything to cover myself and everyone is there laughing at me.”

Mid-way through the fib she had shuttered eyes closed in embarrassment as the words spilled out of her in a rush. Once she finished she peeked her eyes open still grimacing.

The Darkling’s mouth was slightly ajar, his eyes widened in shock. 

And then he was laughing. Hard. His whole body shook with mirth and was he practically doubled over with laughter.

She had never seen him laugh so hard. All of his hostility was gone, replaced with his hysterical laughter. She was shocked into silence, unsure of what do besides blush furiously.

Finally gaining some control he tried to apologize through spurts of giggling. “I- I’m sorry- I just- I didn’t- I wasn’t expecting that!”

She had never wanted to be swallowed by the earth more. Of all of the things she could have said, why had the most embarrassing made its way out of her mouth? She groaned, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand, like she had done earlier that day in the coach, this time wishing the gesture could propel her out of existence.

The motion caught the Darkling’s attention and he gently pulled her hand away, finally seeming to see the extent of her mortification. At his touch she felt the familiar reassurance and gave into it willingly. 

Fully sobered now, the Darkling had a fond smile on his face. He gently rubbed the red mark on her forehead with his thumb as if to erase it. “Oh Solnishko, you will never cease to surprise me.”

Despite his touch she still felt completely spun around by the shift in atmosphere. She managed a shaky smile though, and they both returned to their meal in an odd kind of silence.

Once they had both finished the Darkling spoke again. “Tomorrow we continue on horseback. You will be able to keep up, yes?”

“I think so,” she replied, thinking that anything would be better than the monotony of the coach at this point.

“Good,” was his only response and when it was clear he had nothing more to say she rose from the table. Respectfully he rose as well. 

“Good night, Moi Soverennyi.” She said softly and he nodded his head in response. Tangled up in feelings of guilt, embarrassment, and excitement she made her towards the the entrance wanting only to return to her tent in peace. She lifted the flap to exit, but as she did she heard the Darkling speak again.

“Sweet dreams, Alina.”

A new wave of heat assaulted her face as she flushed again. Not wanting him to see the redness that was taking over her complexion she only bobbed her head in response before she let the fabric fall shut behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh! Longest chapter yet! I had so much fun writing about the Darkling and Alina's relationship I might have gotten a bit carried away! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ The next chapter won't be as long though... It's about Alina and Mal so I wonder what that says? Ah well! I've had so much fun writing my 1st fan fic and I'm amazed at the number of hits it has gotten so far (almost 300!!). The next chapter will be up in a few days. See you then!!


	7. Intention

When Alina returned to her lonesome tent that night she immediately busied herself with getting ready for bed. Or, at least, that’s what she told herself. In reality everything she did was in half measures. She unbuttoned her kefta, but didn’t shrug it off. She untied her boots, but didn’t step out of them. She removed the black ribbon from her hair, but didn’t unbraid it. She opened her clothing trunk, but didn’t pull out her white, silk nightgown. Finally, she turned down her bed, carelessly tugging at the soft sheets and furs, but didn’t lie in it. 

She just sat there. Her mind was a roiling mess of thoughts that she couldn’t focus on. Individual concerns came and went without her paying them too much attention. Thoughts of the Darkling, the tracker, the dreams, and the previous night jumbled together then congealed into a thick chaos. All the while she continued to sit perched at the end of her bed. It was almost like she was in some meditative state, or self-induced trance.

In the time that passed silence slowly fell over the camp as the soldiers and grisha settled into their beds or nighttime posts. Alina realized that she had been waiting for the quiet and started to undo some of her bedtime preparations. She re-laced her boots and buttoned her kefta back up, but she didn’t bother to retie her hair or tidy her cot.

Like the night before, she snuck out the back of her tent and into the woods without notice. She headed back towards the pond all the while trying to convince herself that this was just one of her nighttime wanderings.

She was not looking for anybody. She was not expecting to find anybody. She was not disappointed to find the pond’s shore vacant. She was not continuing her walk to increase her chances to find anybody.

But when he was finally standing before her she couldn’t pretend anymore. And she didn’t care to. She wanted answers. No. She needed answers.

He had stepped out of the woods, intersecting her path, but it hadn’t startled her. With growing guilt, she knew that had been expecting him.

His eyes were wary and he stood silently, obviously waiting for her to start.

“Keramzin,” she said without out preamble, a statement more than a question, full of need. 

His previously stoic face lit up at that. “You remember then?” He exclaimed as he took an eager step forward.

She flinched at the movement and held up her hands in a warning gesture, not ready for a repeat of the incident the night before.

“Not one step closer, tracker.” She gave him a warning glare, her voice almost a growl in the back of her throat. With some guilty pleasure she saw his eyes grow wary again. He stepped back slowly as if he had just stumbled upon some type of wild animal.

“Do you though? Remember, that is?” His voice was low in the dark and had a quality to it that sent a shiver down her back.

She wanted to leave, to blow him off and pretend like none of this mattered to her. Because she didn’t remember, but at the same time knew that for some reason she should. Her mouth and her mind and her heart were waging a civil war and she was stuck in the middle of it.

“No, I don’t. I-,” She faltered for a second, surprised at her own honesty. “What is it? Or, I guess, where is it?”

He leveled her a slightly bemused glance like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her questions, but answered readily enough. “Keramzin is an orphanage. It’s close to the Vy, roughly south of Kribirsk, but further east of the fold.”

He paused for a second, giving Alina time to digest the information and visualize the location on the map of Ravka that she held in her mind’s eye. Then, seeming more hesitant he spoke again.

“It’s where I was raised… It’s… where I met you.”

At that she snapped to an agitated attention. “What?”

“Alina, it was a much your orphanage as it was mine.”

No, she thought to herself, it couldn’t be. She was an orphan, yes. But she had never been in an orphanage. Like so many unfortunate children of Ravka, her parents had been taken from her by war, but they had given her up to the grisha well before that. 

She could distinctly remember the times when the Darkling had held her close, whispering to her about how brave her peasant parents had been. Stroking her hair, he had praised them for their foresight to give Alina up, saving her and giving her the life she deserved. She was living the life her parents had wanted her to have. They hadn’t died leaving her alone. They couldn’t have.

“Liar.” Alina whispered the word into the cold night. Clouds had lazily covered the almost full moon and the night’s chill was settling in. But she could feel that her hair had completely escaped the braid she hadn’t bother to re-tie, warming her neck slightly.

“Alina-“

“Don’t call me that!” She snapped.

Unfazed he continued. “It’s true! You were the first person at Keramzin that I met. We played together all the time! You made me feel safe. You-“

“Stop telling me what I did. You don’t know the first thing about me!” She was yelling now, desperately hoping her anger could hold back the hot tears that were starting to press against her eyes.

“Then why are you here, Moya Soverennyi?” He said her title like it was trash, his voice dripping with disgust. “What are you doing in the forest, when you could be warm in your own tent, tucked into your silk and furs?”

His face was sharp stone again. She imagined running her fingers over his cracked scar and in the back of her mind she wondered if it would draw blood.

“If you hadn’t been to Keramzin you wouldn’t be here now asking me about it. The word calls to you. Don’t try to deny it, I can see it on your face.”

Alina felt like she was falling into a dark hole with no end. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore. Her mind and her body seemed to react opposite to each other. Things that had once felt certain were now uneven, like loose cobblestones in a once well paved street. 

Her unshed tears viciously fought to escape their prison, but she held them back. She wasn’t going to give this otkazat'sya the pleasure of eliciting her tears.

“My parents gave me to the Grisha before they died! Your parents might have left you alone in this world, but mine didn’t. They loved me.” Her voice trembled, but she could see the way her words cut into him.

He took another step backwards letting the shadows conceal his face.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe you aren’t the girl I knew…” he said in a voice so quite that she almost missed it.

Her stomach dropped with disappointment even as her mind agreed with him. He turned to leave and she could feel her hand twitch to reach for him.

“The girl I knew would never have become a simple pet of the Darkling.” He said the words loud enough so that she would be sure to hear them without him having to look back.

“That’s not true!” Alina called desperately to the retreating figure.

“If you say so… Moya Soverennyi.”

He strode gracefully, but quickly into to the forest leaving the girl alone on the path that had carried her to him.

The tears that she had been fighting back spilled over. She wanted to collapse to the ground but resisted. He had already made her fall the night before, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. Even if it did feel like some unknown part of her was breaking.

In the coach she had thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that he had called her ‘Alina.’ Maybe it was okay for him to talk to her like a friend. Now she wished that he never had. Because now when he called her by her title it felt so much worse.

She wiped roughly at her cheeks then set back for the camp. She massaged her wrist as she walked. It ached with the want to be held. She tried to convince herself that it just hurt from her fall earlier that day.

But she was finding it hard to convince herself of anything that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is okay! It isn't as long as the last ones and I'm a little worried that the conversation moved too quickly. Ah well, I'm sure it's fine! Poor Alina, she's so confused!
> 
> I'm currently in the middle of a move so I'm not sure when the next chapter is coming out, but in the meantime you can check out my other Shadow and Bone fanfic, [Shot in the Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11495664). It's a lighter, coffee shop AU. *^-^*
> 
> Thanks for reading! I live on comments and kudos! :P Hope you had fun reading and I'll see you next time!


	8. Transference

When Alina lay in her cot that night, she tried to recall the memory of her parents giving her to the Grisha. She had some fragments of memory of life before the Little Palace and many memories after the Little Palace started to feel like home. But the time in between was just…

…blank.

She couldn’t remember her first days with the Grisha or most of her first year. Even more troubling she couldn’t remember the first time she had met the Darkling. She found herself thinking that she should remember those things; the first time she met her fiancé, the start of her friendship with Genya, the beginning of training her powers, the first time she saw the Little Palace and so much more.

Odder still was the fact that the memories she searched for eluded her in different ways.

Some of them she could almost make out. Like she was running her fingers along an object to discern it by touch alone or standing in a foggy valley stumbling towards fragments of sounds of indeterminable source. They were there. She was certain of that, but they were also completely out of focus.

But other memories didn’t feel like they had ever been there. Like she was reaching into an empty bag and when she pulled out her hand she wasn’t holding anything. But everyone else around her insisted that she was holding something and could describe it to her in great detail.

She thumbed through her memories trying to make sense of them. It was utterly frustrating and exhausting work. After a few hours of troubled thoughts, a rough sleep finally overcame her.

\----

That night she dreamed of a hand. It was familiar to her, comforting, and when it reached for her she went to it gladly.

But when it circled around her wrist she started to panic and flail. She knew that she should be content at the touch but instead she felt like a small child crying out in pain.

Shadows worked their way around her. She did everything she could to remove them, rubbing, scraping, pushing, pulling, clawing, but they continued to spread, blinding her and muting her screams.

Eventually she stopped struggling. She surrendered to the darkness.

\----

The next day Alina found herself to be in unusually good spirits, despite her bad dreams and the unique discomfort of horseback riding for the entire day. It was just so nice to be a part of her surroundings instead of sheltered away from them. Things like the breeze on her face, the flutter of falling leaves, and the sharp smell of pine were lost on coach travel.

But it was the sun she exulted in the most. She drew the light to her, letting it pool under her skin in a way that she hoped wasn’t too noticeable. Usually she avoided using her powers around horses, who were too easily spooked.

They had been traveling every day from sunrise to sunset with Alina packaged up in the coach, causing her to feel sun starved. She wasn’t sure if it was the same for other Etherealki; if Squallers ached to feel the wind in their hair, Tidemakers yearned to be close to the water, or Inferni craved the heat of fire. She didn’t even know if the Darkling desired the shadows. But she knew that she felt weak and lost if she was away from the sun for too long.

There wasn’t much talking during the journey. They were steadily winding their way along a mountain pass that was only wide enough for single file travel at most points. But it was enough for Alina to just be around people and listen to their occasional chatter.

At one point the Darkling had doubled back to ride alongside her during a wider section of the pass and she fought back a blush at the special attention.

“How are you holding up, Alina? I hope you are tolerating the pace.” His voice was lowered so that the riders around them wouldn’t hear their conversation and Alina felt a small thrill at the intimacy of it.

“Well, I’m developing blisters in places that I didn’t know could.”

His mouth quirked at that.

“But other than that I’m doing fine and I much prefer this to the coach.” She leaned back in her saddle and closed her eyes. “Plus, the sun is nice.”

She allowed the light to surge and pulse a bit under her skin to emphasize her point. A part of her hoped that once they had the amplifier it would be clear that she didn’t need the safety of the coach. She didn’t think that she needed it now, but it wasn’t something she felt comfortable voicing. So instead she tried express her desires subtly.

A couple of pulses passed without a response from the Darkling and Alina nervously opened her eyes.

The space between them had narrowed considerably so that they were within touching range. If she stretched her foot it would bump against his. The sudden closeness was a little startling, but even more so was the man’s face.

He stared at her intently, but she couldn’t quite read his eyes.

“What does that feel like?”

“What?”

“The light.” He said simply, gesturing to her with his free hand.

She considered the question, but found that she couldn’t quite explain the experience with words alone. The light felt like it was a part of her, but at the same separate. It came to her when she called it, but also felt like it was always burning within her. So instead of trying to explain it with messy words she tried to give the experience to him.

Boldly, she reached across the space between them and rested her hand on top of his. Focusing on the feeling of light warming her, she tried to transfer that feeling to him. As much as it was possible for his touch to calm her, she wasn’t sure the connection could work in reverse. But at her touch he closed his eyes and let his head turn to the sky in a posture that mimicked hers earlier.

He looked vulnerable and almost soft in that moment. Alina had never seen anything like it.

She suddenly found herself acutely aware of the sharp line of his exposed throat, the way his Adam’s apple shifted ever so slightly with his breath. She blushed and quickly pulled her hand away, not wanting any other feelings to cross across their connection.

If the Darkling was displeased with the absence of her touch he didn’t say anything. His mask slid back into place as he gave her short nod and returned to the front of the column.

Alina felt a little uneasy with concern that she might have done something wrong. Lately her grasp on reading him seemed off, liked something had changed, but she didn’t know what.

Her eyes followed him as he worked his way up the line. He joined another rider at the front. It was the lead tracker who came and went from the group as he scouted ahead then doubled back to correct their course.

Alina had been acutely aware of both the tracker’s presence and his absence throughout the day. She had been actively avoiding looking at the space that he occupied in a way that she wasn’t entirely sure was too obvious.

The rest of the day’s voyage was uneventful, but passed quickly enough. They had stopped around sunset in a relatively flat section of the foot hills to make camp. Some of the other trackers prepared a campfire with the help of an Inferni, but besides that there wasn’t much to set up other than their sleeping rolls.

Alina’s private tent had always been set up for her with no say in its location so she wasn’t sure where she should put her bed roll. Even though the Darkling was her fiancé she found herself hesitating to set her bed roll beside his. It felt too forward or overly familiar, but she wasn’t sure where else she would lie. She considered setting up more towards the outskirts of their little group, like her tent had been set up in the past, but something felt off about that as well.

She found herself standing awkwardly, bed roll in hand, as she looked for the right spot to put it. She wasn’t very close with any of the other grisha and was acutely aware of that in this moment. They milled around her, confidently settling into conversations with each other as they set up their sleeping arrangements.

Usually it didn’t bother Alina that she was set apart from the others. She wasn’t like them; she was like the Darkling. She wore black when they wore colors, she had private lessons when they had group lessons, they even ate at different tables, but it was so much more than that. The other grisha were momentary points in time, but from the Darkling she knew she was fated for an unusually long life filled with purpose. She had a destiny.

 _Doesn’t that just make it lonelier though?_ A small voice said in her head.

“Why don’t you put your bed roll beside mine.” The Darkling’s familiar voice sounded behind her, startling her.

He gestured to a spot a few feet away that had enough room for two bedrolls. She felt a thrill at his proposition, then a sudden quick stab of fear. _What is there to be afraid of though?_ Her own emotions puzzled her, but she nodded dumbly and followed him.

Later that evening, after they had eaten a quick meal of hard bread and cheese, Alina settled into her bedroll beside the Darkling’s. The majority group had the same idea and were getting ready for bed as well.

“Goodnight Alina.”

“Goodnight Moi Soverennyi.”

She was thankful for the darkness and hoped it was hiding her ridiculous blush. She moved to pull the furs up to her face, but at the last moment stopped. In all of her nervousness she had almost forgot to say her false prayers to the saints.

Feeling embarrassed she recited the prayers that the man lying next to her had taught her in the hopes that they would ward off nightmares. It had been years since she had learned them and since she started to pretend that they actually helped.

A pit formed in her stomach as she recited the hollow words under her breath. When she had first started the ruse she had never thought that one day she would share the Darkling’s bed every night.

_Soon I will lie every night before I lie with him._

The thought could almost be comical.

Almost.

The uncertainty of the day weighed on Alina. As she finished the prayer she sunk further into her bedroll with exhaustion. But her thoughts raced and danced around her in a riot when she closed her eyes. The bedroll itched at her skin despite its luxurious quality.

She rolled onto her side and was surprised to see the Darkling already asleep. It struck her again how vulnerable and soft he looked. Before today she hadn’t known he could look like this.

 _How much do I really know of this man beside me?_ She found herself wondering.

Overcome with the need to wander into the night her legs twitched, but she couldn’t go just yet.

She watched his slow breathing until she was certain everyone in the camp who didn’t have the watch shift were asleep. Then she bended the light away from herself giving her a sort of invisibility. It was a relatively new trick she had learned and she didn’t have full control of it, but it was better than nothing.

Rising as quietly as she could she was distinctly aware of every sound she made and the increased proximity of everyone around her. She accidently kicked a small pebble that created a noise seemingly louder than an avalanche.

 _Saints take me!_ She cursed in her mind. This was much harder than sneaking out of her tent and she was deeply regretting her choice of bedroll placement.

Despite the increased difficulty she made it past the sleeping grisha and the night watch. Once she was certain she was out of vision she dropped her shaky invisibility. She was panting from the effort, but her body hummed in contentment of using her power. It bolstered her confidence and propelled her further up the mountain.

 She had a goal this time that she didn’t even try to pretend or explain away.

Something had shifted. She wasn’t sure what, but she needed to know.

She needed to remember.

She needed to talk to the tracker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This chapter is finally done! I had _a lot_ of trouble with this one. Mid way through writing it I realized that I had no idea where the story was going or what the main characters really wanted! I had to take a little time to figure out their motives and general direction of the plot instead of continuing on by the seat of my pants! haha XD
> 
> Also, chapter 8? Over 17,000 words in total? Whoah! :P
> 
> I live for comments and kudos! (I really do though! They keep me motivated and make me happy! ^^;)
> 
> Anyways, I hope that you really enjoyed reading this! Until next time!!


	9. Veracity

Alina had been rambling over the rocky landscape for what had to be at least an hour. She walked slowly and avoided the trees in favor of staying out in the open. But there was still no sign of the tracker and she was starting to get nervous. All the other nights he had appeared to her so suddenly that it almost seemed that he materialized from the forest itself.

Alina paused and tried a new tactic. “Tracker?” She called awkwardly into the night, realizing that she didn’t actually know his name. There was no response, so she continued her hike.

_If I keep going on like this, I’m going to get lost._ She thought as she crested another hill. She promised herself that if he didn’t show soon she would turn around.

The higher elevation revealed a picturesque landscape and Alina’s breath caught in her throat a little. She could see where the thick forest became the foot hills, and the foot hills became the mountains. The sky was completely clear, but the forest was covered mist as if the clouds were sleeping in the night. A full moon hung heavy in the sky and the combination of the light from it and the unmasked stars made her skin tingle in anticipation.

Alina suddenly had an idea. If he wasn’t going to come to her like he had the past two nights, she was going make him. It was reckless and impulsive, but the promise of using her powers helped to push away her trepidation.

She let the prickle of her skin guide her as she called to the light. Points of starlight fell around her like snow and clung to her skin in intricate swirls. She raised both of her hands and let the moonlight pool in them then overflow like water. Smiling into the night, she was almost disappointed when she heard the now familiar voice behind her.

“Moya Soverennyi, you called?” The tone was hard and sarcastic, but it was there. She tried to ignore the spike of pain the title sent through her.

The light dwindled around her and she rubbed the last of it from her skin as she turned around.

“Hello, Tracker.”

His face was as cold as his voice, but she continued on anyways.

“I still don’t believe you, but I want to hear about it. Tell me about Keramzin,” she commanded.

He looked at her skeptically and Alina felt awkward under his gaze.

“Please?”

A pause passed between them, long enough that Alina wasn’t sure he was going to answer her.

But he sighed, deflating a bit, and acquiesced. “It was actually nicer after you left.”

“What?” She laughed unexpectedly and openly. Her laughter filled the space between them and Alina could have sworn that she saw the corners of his mouth tick up.

“It was though. All of the sudden we had more food, nicer clothes, warmer beds, new books, and even more staff to look after us. There were more orphans too, but for once we were all cared for. All because of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “It was a reward I guess, or a compensation.”

Alina wanted to ask ‘for what?’ but she knew what his answer would be. The families that produced grisha for the Second Army were rewarded heavily. If she was actually from the orphanage they most likely would have gotten a stipend for looking after her for however long she had lived with them.

_You will have the finest clothes, the finest food, whatever your heart desires. Would you like that?_ A fragment of a memory flitted through Alina head and she stayed quiet.

The tracker continued. He talked about the building and the grounds, the age range of the orphans, what they were taught, and where they went when they were older.

“-and that’s how I ended up in the First Army.” His eyes seemed to search her face for something. Alina stayed silent.

“Anything else?” He asked.

More silence.

He let out a frustrated sigh and turned to leave.

“Wait- I…” Alina panicked at his retreating form. She wasn’t done with him yet. There were still too many questions left. She struggled to find the words, finally settling on, “And what was it like before I left?”

He turned slowly and his eyes were guarded.

“Home,” he answered simply.

Before you left it was home and after… well, it was just a place, a roof over my head.”

Her heart twisted and she wanted to deny it, say that she had never been there, never known him, couldn’t have made a cold orphanage his home, but the words didn’t come.

Instead she pretended to go along with his ruse. She tried to sound casual, but her voice came out weak and panicked.  “You said we played. What did we do?”

His eyes raked over her face, continuing their search, and his voice was cautious. “Well, we would play outside, when the weather was warm enough. Ana Kuya would yell at us endless if we tracked in mud though the mansion though. So when it would rain we would stay inside, running through the halls, sliding down the banisters, generally wreaking havoc.” He shrugged. “But mostly we hid, whenever we could, with stolen food preferably.”

His searching eyes bored holes in her. “They called us malenchki, little ghosts.”

A panic she didn’t understand washed over Alina. Her head was throbbing and she could feel her breath starting to accelerate into short pants. She curled in on herself as she sunk to the ground.

_I’m going to be sick,_ she thought as she cradled her head in her hands.

She could sense the tracker move towards her, his had extending out warily.

“Don’t touch me!” She snapped and he took a step back.

“Alina?”

Her stomach hollowed.

“Alina?” The man’s voice held growing concern. Her stepped towards her again, but Alina didn’t have the strength to ward him off a second time.

Warm arms fell over her shoulders as he rested on his knees beside her.

She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

They stayed like that for a while, not talking. Alina focused on the sound of his even breathing and tried to match her own ragged breaths to it. When she was finally had more composure she shrugged him off.

Turning her face to his, she found it to be inches away. _Kissing distance_ , a voice in the back of her supplied. She should move away, stop talking, but she had to ask, she had to or she would implode in on herself again.

“What is your name?” Her voice was rough with tears that hadn’t spilled yet.

_Mal._

“Malyen Oretsev.” His breath was warm on her face with a name that she already knew.

_Her hands were tiny and her wrists were so slender that she always wondered how they never snapped under the force of her blows._

“Mal?” She could hardly hear her own voice.

_It was the same cry every time, over and over until she felt that she could no longer breath, her breath painfully lodged in her chest._

He nodded once, slowly. His eyes were no longer searching. He had found what he was looking for, what _she_ was looking for.

_The pain in her hands, the scrape of her throat, the burn of her tears, the constriction of her lungs… None of it mattered. All that mattered was…_

“Mal!”

Alina could feel it now, the feeling of finally coming home. She crushed Mal into a tight embrace on the cold ground, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry, Alina! I-”

“No, I’m sorry, Mal! I-”

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but I thought it would be-”

“I don’t know how I could have forgotten. I’m so confused, I-”

They continued that way for a while, accidentally stepping over each other’s words, clutching onto each other frantically, sharing laughs and tears until they could finally hold a steady conversation. They broke their hug enough so that they could see each other’s faces.

“Why did it take you so long?” Mal asked curiously.

“I don’t know. After our second talk I realized that I had these gaps in my memory. Most of them still aren’t filled, but at least I know where I come from now.” She paused in confusion. “But, Mal, the Darkling told me that my parents gave me up to him directly. I don’t understand…”

“He was lying.”

The girl felt torn. She tried to align what the Darkling had told her to what her memories actually held. She trusted the boy in front of her, but she also trusted her fiancé.

“He had to have been mistaken…” she trailed off in uncertainly. The Darkling didn’t make mistakes. He didn’t forget or tell lies.

But he was wrong about this.

Her head spun and she started to feel panicky again.

Suddenly she felt two warm hands on her cheeks.

“It’s okay, Alina! It’s going to be okay… just… breath with me.”

She copied his breathing again until she could talk.

“I think he did something to me, to my memory, but I don’t know what.” Despite her control over her breath, her voice came out shaky.

She stared at the engagement ring on her finger. Even in the dark it continued to glitter. It looked… ominous.

“Mal, I’m so confused. Nothing makes sense anymore.”

He pulled her into another hug, but didn’t say anything. She clutched at him until a growing awareness of how close they were settled over her.

“Mal?”

His eyes slid past her and he let her go to stand up.

“I need to tell you something.” He was facing away from, his back radiating tension.

The mood had shifted and Alina rose to her feet warily.

“Alina, I heard something. You aren’t going to like it…” He turned back around and raked a hand through his hair. “Saints! I don’t even know if you’ll believe it, but you have to listen to me.”

Ripples of unease pooled in her stomach.

Mal continued, talking slightly too fast with an edge of panic to his voice.

“The other night the other trackers and I were drinking with the grisha, it was the night your party joined mine. One of them got really drunk off his ass on kvas. Really, it’s lucky he didn’t fall into the campfire or into a ditch.” He chuckled weakly.

“That’s beside the point though. His name is David. He’s a… Materialki? I think? Anyways, he started to tell us what the Darkling is planning on doing with the stag. But before he really got into, the other grisha shut him up, so when he went to take a piss I followed him.”

Alina’s unease was mounting as the story progressed, forming a tight knot in her stomach. The only thing that was holding back her panic was a faint amusement at the tracker’s coarse language.

“I corned him and asked him about the stag. He said that the Darkling needed it to make an amplifier for you, to make you more powerful.”

He looked at her curiously and Alina nodded a bit to let him know that she understood what he was saying.

“Well, you know about that I guess, but I didn’t. When I asked him what that was, he went on a very long winded rant. I didn’t understand most of it, honestly I blocked a bit of it out, but I let him keeping going because it almost seemed like he didn’t know I was there anymore.”

Alina thought back to what Genya had told her about David. _Seems about right._

“But when he was done explaining what an amplifier is, I asked him why the stag... And, Alina, you should have seen his face, it looked like he was about to lose his dinner, and not because of the kvas.”

He paused to inspect her own face before he continued.

“David said that stag is special. That it’s one of the few, if not the only, amplifiers that can be given to another grisha by whoever killed it. But, that also allows the giver control over the person who accepts it.”

Alina wasn’t sure what she was hearing, but she shook her head back and forth slowly with dread.

“The amplifier- no, the _collar_ ,” he said the word with disgust, “would allow the Darkling to use your power as he wishes, without your permission.

She shook her head harder now.

Mal’s voice came out as a beg, “Alina, please listen to me-“

“No.”

“But-“

“NO.”

“Alina-“

Objectively she knew that she trusted the Darkling, but something about the way Mal was talking unnerved her.

“He wouldn’t do that to me. He loves me!” She was shouting now, her own voice ringing in her ears. “He just wants me to have an amplifier so that we can be equals, so that I can finally bring Ravka out of war!”

“He wants to control you! That’s all he ever wanted.” Mal’s face was contorted in frustration, causing the ragged scar on his cheek to stand out.

“No, he loves-“

“You said it yourself, Alina! He’s been doing something to your memory. You don’t know what he is capable of!”

Alina stiffened at that. “You don’t know either. You don’t even know him; not like I do.”

“You’re right,” he conceded grudgingly, “but, I don’t trust him. And that’s why I’m leaving.”

The air seemed to reverberate with the silence at the end of his statement. Alina could hardly believe her ears.

“You’re defecting? But, Mal… they’ll kill you!”

“I don’t care.”

“But-“

“I finally got you back, Alina, I’m not going to lose you to him again!” Mal’s voice crackled with emotion.

He stared at the ground dejectedly. “He took you away once. They dragged you from Keramzin kicking and scratching. I had dreams every night for years. I _still_ have dreams of that day.”

Alina thought of her own dreams, nightmares, that the Darkling had tried to rid her of.

“I ran after you, I tried, but I wasn’t fast enough. I couldn’t do anything and it killed me.”

He was looking her in the eyes now, fervently. “I won’t let that happen again. I don’t care if they kill me, I’m not going to be the one who hands the Darkling the means to enslave you.”

“He wouldn’t do that, Mal. He’s my fiancé. I trust him, I believe in him.”

“But-“

“No.” She held up a hand to silence him. “My turn to talk. Even if David is right, or telling the truth, or whatever, the Darkling wouldn’t control me like that.”

Mal looked like he wanted to interject, but she silenced him with a glare.

“I am his equal, his balance, and nothing he has done has ever led me to believe otherwise.” Alina grew more confident with every word and a familiar surety washed over her. “When he proposed, he made the amplifier a condition of our marriage, because he wanted us to stand as equals at the altar. I know you’re concerned for me, but I’m not a child anymore. I can handle myself.”

He was back to staring at the ground again. She reached out a hand and brought up his chin to look into his eyes.

“Will you trust me? I promise that I won’t be controlled. But, Mal, I need that amplifier if I’m ever going to destroy the fold. I want that amplifier; I want to marry him.”

Mal jerked his face out of her grasp, but not before she saw hurt in his eyes.

“You’re seventeen.” He said coldly.

“So?”

“He’s hundreds of years old! Don’t you find that creepy?”

She bristled at the insult. “He’s one hundred and twenty, but that is beside the point. Will you hunt the stag or not?”

“Not.” His voice was defiant and his nostrils flared a bit.

“They’ll kill you.”

“No, _he’ll_ kill me, but I don’t care. Why do you?”

Alina faltered at that, not sure what to say.

He pushed past her hesitancy. “I’m leaving tomorrow night. Report me if you want. Sentence me to death for all I care. But I’m packing enough for two, if you want to come with me.”

He started to walk the opposite direction from camp and Alina suddenly remembered the other reason why she had wanted to see him.

“Wait!”

He stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“I wanted to ask you- will you…” her voice was heavy with embarrassment, “will you hold my wrist again?”

She craved the feeling of power that had flowed between them, needed to know what it was. Now that he was walking away from her, she wished she had brought it up sooner.

He continued on silently and didn’t look back. He was almost out of sight when he called out, “Tomorrow night, when you decide to go with me.”

When.

When you decide to go with me.

The words reverberated in Alina’s ears as she headed back to the camp where she should be asleep, lying next to her fiancé.

_When._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally we got some action going! I felt like the pace was slow so I threw two realizations into one night. I hope it flowed okay! This is the longest conversation I've ever written. Whew! ;>.>
> 
> So, I'm not sure enough yet, but I _think_ that we have 2-3 more chapters left! I'm so proud of how far I've come with my first fic!!
> 
> Anyways, I hope that you are enjoying the series so far. I live off of comments and kudos! They keep me motivated and let me know that you guys are enjoying my writing.
> 
> Have a nice day! See you next time!


	10. Betrayal

A thin sliver of the sun was starting to peak over the horizon as Alina hurried back to the camp site. She had stayed out far too long, wandering through the forest after her conversation with Mal when she should have been sleeping next to her fiancé.

Her feet stumbled slightly over loose gravel and Alina prayed to the Saints she wasn’t sure she believed in that nobody had noticed her absence. Or if they had noticed, that they would believe she had just need to relieve herself in the forest.

She was comforted to find the camp as she left it. There was no sign of distress over her or Mal’s absence and Alina was able to use her shaky trick of invisibility to sneak back to her bed roll. As she crawled in she guiltily placed her back to her fiancé.

“Where have you been, Alina.” The Darkling’s voice was calm and even, but it still sent her heartrate skittering.

Alina rolled over to face him. “I uh- just had to relieve myself, Moi Soverennyi.” She whispered nervously.

His perfect, impassive face stared back at her. There was no anger, or disbelief, or concern there. His lack of emotion and her inability to read it was dangerous like a knife held to her throat. She couldn’t tell if he believed her or not. It felt like a test, but she wasn’t sure of the question.

“That was a lie, I’m sorry,” she caved. “I actually went for a walk. I know you don’t like me going out on my own, but I just get so _restless_ sometimes. And I can handle myself, I promise.” She kept her voice at a whisper, but that only worked to increase the panic in her tone. “Please forgive me.

She pulled her blankets up to her nose as if to shield herself from some sort of retribution. But it never came. The Darkling’s face remained neutral for a while before shifting into just the barest hint of concern.

He stretched his hand out and grazed his fingers across her cheek. Almost unconsciously, she leaned into his touch so that he was cupping her face with one hand.

“Alina, I’m not angry with you and it concerns me that you think I would be.” He moved his thumb across her cheek. “I would rather you take some guards with you or at least let somebody know where you are going if you plan to do more nighttime walks. But I trust your judgement.”

His words came as a complete shock to her. “But… I thought…”

The Darkling’s hand slipped away from her face as he made to get up. “You aren’t a little girl anymore and I hope you know I no longer think of you in that way.”

He deftly gathered his bedding into a neat roll and walked off leaving Alina blushing under her blankets. The other grisha and soldiers were starting to rouse around her as well now and Alina hoped that they hadn’t heard their conversation.

The hike that day was long and winding. It was difficult for Alina after a night with no sleep, but her troubled thoughts helped to push her forward. Her brain was a tangled mess of anxiety and guilt resulting in hours that felt like mere minutes. The day’s march was already coming to a close, the sun setting on the horizon, and Alina still had no idea what she was going to do.

Was she willing to throw away everything that she knew on the chance that her power might no longer be hers alone? Was she willing to believe that the Darkling could do that to her. A deep and unsettled part of her knew that the Darkling had to be connected to her missing memories and that same part wondered if Mal could be right.

But what proof other than Mal’s word was there? She didn’t think that he was lying, but it was very possible that he hadn’t fully understood David’s drunken ramblings. Most people couldn’t completely follow him when sober. So while she trusted that Mal was only concerned for her safety she didn’t trust that he was right.

He described a Darkling to her that was malicious and controlling. One that didn’t match up to the man that she knew and loved. The Darkling had taken care of her, given her anything she could ask for, carved a place for her in the world.

He loved her and he also trusted her.

Alina wasn’t sure if she was fully deserving of that trust anymore, but she wanted to be.

So she wasn’t going to run away with Mal. But she wasn’t going to give him up for persecution either. He didn’t deserve that for just being concerned about her safety and wellbeing.

Alina clenched a hand to herself as she formed her final decision. She was going to go to Mal one more time so that they could have the chance to say a proper goodbye this time.

~ ~ ~

That night the forest greeted her like a familiar friend. Alina had lost track of how many nightly walks she had taken on this trip, but the pattern was now well-known to her and she wondered if she would still feel compelled to wander after Mal was gone.

It wasn’t long before Mal intercepted her aimless path to a small clearing. He called out her name in a voice that was so filled with hope and joy that it made her heart hurt with the disappointment she was about to bring him.

He had two bags full of supplies slung over his shoulder, but he carried them like they were nothing and they didn’t stop him from picking her up into a tight hug.

“I knew you would come!” He exclaimed into her hair.

The hurt of her heart grew heavier. She had just gotten Mal back and now she was going to lose him. This time of her own accord.

“Mal I-,” but before she could let him down his lips were suddenly upon hers. Alina froze, not knowing what to do or how to feel. She had never been kissed before, not on the lips. The Darkling had pressed an occasional cool kiss to her cheek or brow. But this was nothing like that.

This was warm and inviting, thawing her initial shock. She instinctively raised to her toes and wrapped her arms around his waist to bring him closer. His hands worked their way through her hair as he whispered excitement to her lips.

If Alina had known that this is what kissing felt like she would have searched for it sooner. She definitely could have. Easily. There had been no shyness amongst the other grisha when it came to kissing or other deeper affections. But she had only ever wanted to kiss one man and had felt that anything else would be a betrayal.

_The Darkling._

She broke the kiss suddenly.

She was _engaged_ so what was she doing?

Alina held herself away from Mal, awash with guilt. Her first kiss should have belonged to her fiancé. She had wanted it to belong to him.

But for some reason, now that it didn’t she found that only minded it a little. And that made her feel even guiltier.

“I can’t Mal, I’m engaged.” She said with more conviction than she felt.

“But, you’re running away.” He gripped her arms.

“No I’m not.” Her voice was quiet and she couldn’t look him in the eye. “I came here to tell you that I can’t run away. I came to say goodbye.”

Mal’s grip tightened painfully.

“Ow, Mal! What are you-,” The words died on her lips when she realized that he was no longer looking at her. She followed his gaze to a breath taking sight.

A heard of graceful white deer had made their way to the edge of the clearing. They bent their sleek necks to nibble at the frosted glass that would surely be snow covered in a few days. It was Morozova’s herd and in the middle of them stood a massive white stag.

It was everything and nothing Alina had imagined when the Darkling had described them to her. The stag’s great dark eyes fixed themselves upon her and she could see a great expanse of time behind them. The silvery antlers that were to be hers gleamed in the dark.

“But how… I purposefully led us in the wrong direction.” Mal’s voice was in her ear.

“You what?” Afraid of scaring away the deer, her voice was even quieter than Mal’s.

“I wasn’t going to give the Darkling the stag before I defected, of course.”

Alina wanted to point out that it was really her that he would have denied, but instead of arguing she just place a slow finger to her lips.

“Closer.” She mouthed to him.

She took a hesitant step forward that caused the great beast’s ears to flick to attention, but he didn’t run. In a few short, but slow, steps she was before him. And when she reached out a hand, he let her rest it on his muzzle. Alina had half expected that her hand would go right through an apparition, but instead it met solid warmth.

“Alina, this is perfect! If you kill the stag, you’ll get the amplifier but your power will remain your own.”

Alina processed his words and knew that he was right. All she had to do was raise her hand to _cut_ and the amplifier would be hers.

The stag’s sides rose and fell and his nostrils flared as his breath fogged the chilly air. But Alina didn’t just see that, she felt it. She knew the feel of the earth beneath his steady hooves, the smell of pine in his nostrils, and the powerful beat of his heart. A heart truer than hers could ever be.

“No, Mal. I couldn’t end this life, it’s too precious.”

“But the shadow fold…”

“I’ll find another way.” She wanted to turn to reassure Mal, but her eyes were fixed in the stag’s dark. So she reached out a hand behind her and found his hand easily. “We’ll find another way.”

A soft whistle fell upon the air. Alina knew that sound, knew what it meant, but it was too late for her to do anything. The familiar grey arrow of the oprichniki hit the stag’s chest with a dull thunk and he fell with a terrible shriek that Alina never could have imagined coming from the ethereal being.

The stag fell forward as the rest of the heard scattered into the forest. Alina fell backwards, feeling as if she was the one who had been hit. Warm arms caught her that she distantly recognized belonged to Mal.

“You should have listened to him, Solnishko.” The Darkling’s steely voice cut through the clearing. Her pet name seemed to drip with a disgust that she had never heard before. The Darkling stepped into the clearing and his face was terribly calm. It was the look of a brewing storm that could hit with full force at any moment.

The stag made a sickening gurgle sound. Mal moved almost faster than Alina could follow, an arrow nocked and ready to fly at the stag.

“No!” Her hand flew up to his arm. He jerked away, setting on a new target. An arrow flew from his bow directly at the Darkling. The sight was like an icy bucket thrown over Alina’s head and her cry was wordless this time.

The arrow was no use though, a squaller wind threw it off its course.

Alina didn’t have time to know if she was relieved or not. Mal moved to try again, but the Darkling sent unexpected tendrils of darkness towards them. Alina threw a weak panicked barrier of light around them. She had sparred with the Darkling before in their practice, but she had never actually had to defend anything from him. The shadows were weak but they broke through her defenses easily and Alina had to try again.

The second barrier held, but she realized that it had only been a diversion. The Darkling raised his arm towards the stag in a stance that Alina immediately recognized, because it was one she had spent countless hours copying.

“No,” she screamed again and without thinking she threw herself in front of the stag. Alina closed her eyes ready to feel torn in half by a weapon that she could have used on the stag herself, but chose not to.

When a tree behind her split open with a loud crack she knew that he must have turned his body at the last moment. Alina wanted to think that it wasn’t just her that had caused the Darkling to turn. Wanted to believe that her fiancé could never turn his blade on the innocent life she was struggling to protect.

But the Darkling’s face was devoid of compassion or understanding. He was pure morbid intent as he slammed his hands together causing a huge wall of rippling darkness to surge forward.

This time Alina was more prepared and she bloomed light around them in a pulsing, glowing sphere.

“Moi Soverennyi! You can’t- You don’t understand!” Taking advantage of the stalemate that her blinding light caused, she tried to plead with the Darkling, but he cut her off.

“Oh I understand, more than you could ever know.” He pushed against her bubble of light and she pushed back. “I have taught you far too well, but I know you’re not strong enough for this, Solnishko.”

A hot resentful anger burned under her skin and her bubble grew slightly. She could tell that he was trying to distract her, but she wouldn’t let him.

“You! Tracker! Are you so ready to die for her?” The Darkling called and Alina looked at Mal nervously. His arrow was at the ready again and he turned in a slow circle search out the Darkling’s voice, but his expression didn’t change.

Alina looked at Mal with wide eyes and gave a slight shake to her head, a silent plea for him to stand down. For a moment his hand pulled further back on the bow string and Alina didn’t think that he would listen to her. But then he pointed his bow towards the ground and slowly loosened its tension.

 “She may indulge you now, but you will never be as much to her as I am.” The Darkling continued to taunt Mal. “You would really be content with another man’s left overs?”

The resentful anger under her skin writhed into mixture of shame and disbelief. Her light faltered and the Darkling laughed in a way that cut her even more than his words had.

She glanced at Mal and saw that his jaw was set, radiating an unfamiliar icy anger. Alina felt her hold on the light slip. She scrambled to call it back to her, but her focus was shattered. The sphere stuttered with one last flash of brilliance before darkness came pouring into it like ink.

It was no use. She wasn’t strong enough against him. Fear clawed its way up her spine. The Darkling might kill Mal and the stag was already well on its way to death.

“Mal?” She whispered into the dark as she reached out a hand.

His hand was searching as well and when they met they scrabbled together.

“I’m here,” he whispered back.

Their hands were clasped tightly and Alina never wanted to let go.

“Don’t let go?” she asked nervously.

“Never.”

But suddenly Mal was crying out as he was wrenched away from her. She reached out in an attempt to chase his hand, but strong arms took hold of her from both sides. She kicked and struggled furiously.

The darkness lifted and with one glance she knew it was over. They were both pinned down by the Darkling’s guards, unable to move.

“Be still or I’ll kill you where you stand,” a guard snarled at Mal. It was Ivan, the Darkling’s right hand man and best Heartrender. Because of her own proximity to the Darkling, they had spent some time together, but the total sum of their own relationship amounted to nods of acknowledgement only. Alina would have never expected Ivan would side with anybody but the Darkling, yet the betrayal to her still smarted a little.

“Leave him alone! He didn’t do anything!” She desperately cried out.

“Shhhhhh.” The Darkling walked over to her and rested a finger to her lips. There was no surety in his touch this time, only a furious hunger. His lips were curled into a smile that was equal parts mocking and pitying. “Quiet now, or I will let Ivan kill him. Slowly.”

A choking sob of disbelief caught in her throat as she tried to follow his orders.

Her fiancé turned away for her with a call for torches. The light illuminated the stag and Alina could see the labored rise and fall of his chest by the shine of his blood soaked fur. The Darkling pulled a heavy knife from his belt. “We’ve wasted enough time here.”

He slit the stag’s throat without any hesitation.

Alina sagged in the arms of her guards as the stag’s blood saturated the ground. She looked directly into his dark eyes and could almost feel thudding stop of the stag’s heart as the life left him.

Everything was a blur of movement around her. Distantly she registered the sawing sound of the stag’s antlers being removed and the deep purple of David’s kefta as he came forward to fashion her collar.

“Open your coat,” the Darkling commanded Alina, but her mind was too distant from everything now for her to comply.

The Darkling glanced at Ivan and nodded. And then Mal was screaming and crumpled on the ground in front of the Heartrender. The sound cut through the fog of Alina’s mind like a glowing knife that had been held to the hearth.

“No!” She cried, struggling against her guards with renewed vigor. “Please don’t!” She begged the Darkling. “Make him stop!”

The Darkling shot her a bored, but meaningful look and Alina scrambled to unbutton her kefta.

With another nod Mal’s screaming stopped. Alina released a breath that she hadn’t quite know she had been holding. The Darkling seemed to notice as the corners of his eyes tightened ever so slightly.

 “Lift your hair,” he murmured. The tone of his voice was soft and familiar, and Alina might have thought that her fiancé was back if it it wasn’t for his steely face and the curving pieces of bone that glinted in his hands.

When he held the antlers against her throat she could feel the slight warmth of his fingers radiating against her. He didn’t quite touch her and despite everything Alina yearned to lean into his touch. The feeling twisted at her stomach.

The Darkling nodded and Alina knew that David would be working now. She could almost imagine the way that the bones would knit together to form a collar with no clasp nor hinge.

“It’s done,” David whispered as he dropped the collar onto her neck. She could feel it’s weight, both lighter and heavier than she imagined it would be. Alina clenched her hands so that her fingernails bit into her skin and waited.

Nothing happened. Maybe Mal had been wrong, maybe the collar was just a normal amplifier, maybe this nightmare was just a misunderstanding. Alina dared to hope. If she could just apologize now, maybe everything could be resolved. But when she opened her mouth to apologize for thinking the worst, the Darkling closed his fingers over her shoulder.

The touch that she had yearned for just moments ago brought a silent command with it. It reverberated through her and griped her heart like an invisible hand.

 _Light._ It called to her and she found herself answering.

Golden light filled the clearing and the forest beyond. It was stronger and brighter than anything that she had ever produced.

Alina wanted to fight against it, knew that she should, but when he commanded her _More_ she responded eagerly.

She didn’t just call the light. She made the light. Became the light.

The newfound surge of her power was glorious for a long moment until it wasn’t. The Darkling gave command after command, testing the limits of _his_ new powers. Alina tried to push back now. Threw everything she had into forcing away the hand that so easily gripped her heart. But it was no use.

Every wave of power crashed through her with an exultation that was quickly snatched up and consumed by the Darkling. He was cannibalizing her fragile heart with each command. A heart that she had presented to him willingly, but was taken by force nonetheless.

And while Alina was the one summoning, she realized the light was no longer hers.

 _She_ was no longer her own.

But she wondered now if she ever was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here and all it took was two months. And overcoming some serious writer's block. And getting a library card because I only have S&B on audio book and I wanted to start matching up with the original story a bit more. I like the idea that the scene with the stag would always be inevitable in a way, no matter what Alina did or how hard she tried.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys like it... I'm still not sure, but I didn't think just sitting and looking at it would help anything. :/


	11. Confirmation

Alina felt like she was sleepwalking, fading in and out of a nightmare that made no sense, but kept dragging on. The carriage she had been confined to jolted. They were traveling quickly, almost recklessly to their destination. She wondered how her world had been so unfairly turned on its head in just a night. Or more realistically, she wondered how it had taken so long for her perspective to be turned right side up.

She had been so stupid, so very blind, that she hadn’t even realized she lived in a cage. It was large thing, comfortable and spacious in ways that kept her from seeking its bars. She had even thought she had control, a future that she would lead. The Darkling told her that she was better than other grisha, that there were no others like the two of them. She had thought that one day she would lead beside him, in her rightful spot.

She had thought a lot of things.

Alina ran her finger along the bone collar bound to her neck. It was so smooth, so perfect, like the golden band on her left ring finger. Trapped in her thoughts, she had twisting the ring around her finger, worrying it until her skin turned red and blotchy.

She wondered if she would still be expected to marry the Darkling, all the while hating the part of herself that hoped she would. She shouldn’t still want to marry the man who kept her in a cage, who had manipulated her, who made her forget who she was. She definitely shouldn’t still want to marry the man who had locked away Mal.

Alina’s heart constricted at the thought of the Tracker and everything he had done for her. All he had wanted was for her to be free again, but she was more of a prisoner than ever before. And for all his troubles he was one now too.

He would hang for this, she was sure. What he had done was beyond kissing another man’s fiancé and asking her to run away with him. That was some lover’s quarrel. No, what Malyen had done was treason and defection. If he had succeeded in convincing Alina to run away with him he would have taken one of Ravka’s strongest weapons and one of its supposed future leaders.

Even if that had been his goal, he wouldn’t have succeeded.

Alina was loyal to her country. She may not become the leader she had once thought to be - _how could she with the collar at her throat?_ – but she could still destroy the fold. She had wanted to find a way to accomplish that without spilling the blood of a legendary creature. She had not wanted to become a prisoner, her power shackled to the Darkling’s will.

But in the end, it almost didn’t matter how she had found this power, so long as she could finally mend the the pieces of her country back together. When she thought about it that way, she _almost_ didn’t care that she had been chained. If she took a step back from it all, ignored the fact that it was her, what was one girl for all of Ravka?

It _was_ her though.

There was also the question of after, when the fold was gone and her collar no longer had any purpose but to hold her power hostage. It wasn’t really a question of “if” the Darkling would continue to control her, but “how.” He had already been controlling from day one. So what would he do now that he had tightened the reins?

Alina twisted the ring off her finger. She would not let him control her any more than she had to.

And Mal? Well she had an obligation to save her, like he had tried to save her. She couldn’t let him die when all he had wanted was the freedom of a girl he thought he had let down before.

The time for blind compliancy was over.

She had to be smart about it though. Alina didn’t see a way out this for herself, but she would be damned before she let Mal die for her.

~ ~ ~

She slipped the ring back onto her finger before she entered his presence. Let him think that she was still that naive girl who had accepted his proposal with tears in her eyes. Let him think that she would still let him control her willingly, that she would go down without a fight.

It was the right thing to do, judging from the way his eyes raked over her as she entered his tent. He looked at her collar first, the delicate arch of bone that might as well be his hand fisted around her neck. There was also a quick glimpse to her hand to see if his other mark was still there.

Alina thought that she caught the briefest flash of smugness before his face resumed his emotionless, commanding mask. Or maybe that wasn’t his mask. With a sick twist her stomach, Alina realized that his true mask had to have been the soft smiles, kind eyes, and reassuring words he had always seemed to reserve just for her.

She couldn’t let herself dwell on that though. Ever since the night with the stag they had been traveling at a near breakneck speed. This was the first chance she had alone with him and she needed all of her wits about her.

“Moi Soverennyi,” she bowed her head and was careful to keep the hurt and venom from her voice. “You asked for me.”

He stared at her for a moment, analyzing or trying to build some sort of tension. “Sit down.”

Alina clenched her teeth at the order, but complied. She even chose the seat next to his, thought she was tempted to sit as far away from him as the tent would allow. That or just plop down right where she stood, just like a dog would on command. Because wasn’t that what she was to him?

“We reach the fold tomorrow. I expect you not to discuss the specifics of what transpired before the stag was obtained with any of your peers.”

Alina couldn’t help a soft snort of disbelief at his words. “What peers?”

He frowned at her. “Genya will be there of course and I expect the others will have questions about your amplifer.”

Her heart fluttered hopefully at Genya’s name, but she tried not to look interested. If there was any chance her friend might help her, she didn’t want the Darkling to take it away preemptively.

“Fine. I’ll behave, but on one condition.”

“What about your situation makes you think you have anything to barter with?” He looked bored and Alina prickled at his callous tone.

“I could talk,” she insisted. “I could tell everyone what you’ve done.”

“And they would believe you would they? You said it yourself, Alina. You have no peers. There is no one who would hold your word above mine. Besides, what story do you have to tell that paints you as anything other than a traitor?”

She palled, knowing he was right. “Please. Just let him go.”

“Ah, I’m guessing that was your one condition.”

“Yes. He doesn’t deserve whatever you have planned for him. He only wanted-”

“Death.” The Darkling cut her off. “That is what awaits the man who tried to rob Ravka of her only hope of destroying the fold.”

Alina could hardly breath, but she made herself speak anyways. “That wasn’t his goal though! He just wanted-”

“You?” He sneered and though he could never truly be ugly his expression sent a wave of revulsion through her.

The Darkling rose from his chair. He placed a hand on either arm of her chair and loomed over her. “It doesn’t matter what his intent was. I don’t care if he loved you, wanted to save you, or just wondered if he could. He tried to take you away.”

Alina shrank down in her seat.

Sighing, he pushed himself away from her chair. He walked to a table that held a decanter and some empty glasses. She couldn’t see the movement of his hands, but there was a soft pop as he removed the decanter’s stopper, followed by liquid flowing. There were more clinking noises and when he turned around there was a drink in his hand.

He leaned against the table and took a long sip of it. “I would have thought you would know by now.” He murmured just loud enough for her to hear him.

“Know what?” she asked nervously. She didn’t like how the angry tension he had moments ago had faded into what looked like exhaustion or resignation.

“How important you are.” He had only just started on his drink, but he set it down forcefully. “You should know this by now. There are no others like us and yet you insist on throwing that all away for some otkazat’sya who would only grow to hate you.”

Alina knew she shouldn’t say anything, that it was beside the point of the actual conversation they were having, but she couldn’t stop herself from protecting Mal in any way should could. “Mal could never hate me!”

“Oh Solnishko.” He said pityingly and her skin crawled at the pet name. “How wrong you are. There are so many things I’ve protected you from. I’ve sheltered you, perhaps more than I should have.”

“Is that what you call this? Protecting me? I don’t think there is a single other person who has caused me more harm!” She grabbed the collar around her neck, wincing a little as one of its prongs dug into her neck. “You’ve made me your _slave_! And that man you have lined up for death? He’s the only person who even tried to stand in your way.”

“You said that this amplifer would make us equal, that you _wanted_ us to be equals when we stood at the altar. So how… how long have you been lying to me?” The question was hard to ask, even though she knew what his answer should be. He had been manipulating her from the moment they met, reshaping her past so it would best suit his needs and alienating her from most anyone who might be a friend to her now.

He looked at her as if she was still a little girl who needed the basic facts of the world to her. “If I lied it was only because your actions forced my hand. It didn’t have to be this way, Alina. If you had just done as you were supposed to, if you had stayed loyal to your country, to me-” he broke off his sentence suddenly and his eyebrows knit together. “I don’t _want_ to control you like this, but for the good of this country, our country, I have to. This is bigger than what you or I want.”

She stared at him, searching his face. He was lying to her, she knew he was, but he made it seem like he wasn’t. He sounded so sincere, so frustrated, like _he_ was the one dealing with the consequences of _her_ actions. He sounded like he cared, like he was the fiancé she had thought he was. It made both her head and her heart ache.

She ignored it.

“But how could it ever have been equality, if you could always control me the moment I did something you didn’t like? No. Equality was never an option and I doubt it was ever your goal.”

He didn’t respond, instead he walked back over to her. He paused in front of her chair and Alina felt her heart rate quicken. Maybe she was imagining it, but she could practically feel it beating against the antlers around her throat. The Darkling lowered himself until he was at eye level with her. He sat on his heels with his knees touching hers ever so slightly.

“And what of your goals, hmm?” He murmured. “What did you hope to accomplish with this little stunt?”

_I don’t know. Freedom, maybe?_ She wanted to retort, the quip on the edge of her tongue. But she doubted that it would get her very far. Instead she chose to tell the truth, knowing that he wouldn’t believe her.

“I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“That hardly looked like a goodbye.”

“No, I suppose it didn’t.” She said diplomatically, pursing her lips.

His eyes flicked to her lips for the briefest of moments. So fast that she would have missed it during a blink. It somehow gave her the strength to continue.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I never wanted to run away? That you held my heart up until the moment you killed the stag? That you betrayed me and not the other way around? That I want this to be some terrible nightmare that wakes me in the middle of the night? My heart pounding in my ears for a moment before I laugh away the fear, realizing it could never be true?”

He considered her for a long moment, as if weighing the truth of every world. His answer was still a decisive, “No.”

Alina laughed, but it was bitter.

“Then you’re as big of a fool as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re a fool.” He frowned. “What you are is young, naïve. Things that can be outgrown... Maybe you’re right though.”

Her eyes went wide at his words. For a fleeting moment she dared to hope that he had finally seen reason and given into the truth

“Maybe I didn’t see you becoming my equal the moment the stag’s antlers were around your neck. But you will learn. And with time, you will see that I’ve hung the power for you to become my equal right around your neck. I’ve given you power beyond all dreaming. One day, when the fate of our country no longer so dire and I feel I can trust you, maybe I’ll let you use it.”

“You have given me _nothing_.” She whipped out the words, wanting them to be sharp enough to draw blood.

The Darkling stared at her calmly, unperturbed. He brought a hand up to her face and paused, not quite touching her. She could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin and the faint beginnings of his power calling to hers. There was a tremor to his hand, a very slight thing, almost unnoticeable, but very human.

Alina had closed her eyes reflexively, in anticipation. Of what, she had no idea. But when no touch came she opened them. She looked into his eyes and it was like she was standing on the edge of an abyss. No human should have those eyes. They weren’t empty. No they were smart, haunting, and they were consuming. They were staring directly at her.

His hand crossed that last fraction of the distance between them. The power inside of her rose to meet him with the force of a swift punch. She inhaled sharply and her breath became stuck in her chest.

His touch used to calm her, made her feel certain and whole. In the back of her mind she realized that was how he used to make her forget. Now it made her feel completely out of control, spinning too fast and unable to stop or even change her course without his command. She shut her eyes again, crammed them closed to stop the room from going off kilter.

Then there was a soft pressure of his lips against one closed eyelid and then the other. It sparked something fiery and uninvited in her stomach. His lips moved to hers and she felt that small spark ignite into a bonfire.

She couldn’t help the way her lips parted with a sigh and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. His teeth captured her bottom lip with a delicious pain and Alina couldn’t think anymore. Her power was blazing under her skin, aching to be used.

The Darkling broke the kiss suddenly and Alina couldn’t help the way she leaned into him as if to chase his lips. Her power was still there, unspent, and insistent. Except it wasn’t her power, not really. She sat there, fighting the urge to beg him for a command. She was breathing harder than if she had been sprinting, hard enough to make her chest ache.

He rose to his feet and looked down at her. “I gave you everything and you flung it all away. Even so, I will give you more. You may have your goodbyes with the Tracker tonight. Tomorrow I will make an example of what happens to traitors, defectors, and people who touch what’s _mine_.”

Alina rose from the chair, still shaky, but ready to rail against him.

_I’m not yours, you have no right to me._ She bit back the words. They would have time to dispute that, a lifetime if he got his way. But Mal? He had less than a day.

She schooled her features, tried to find that same compliant tone she had managed upon entering his tent, before he confirmed her fears. “Please. What do I have to say, what can I do to spare him? Please, just promise me he will live and I’ll do anything.”

There wasn’t a huge height difference between them, but the Darkling sneered down at her nonetheless. She wondered how she had ever thought this man kind or compassionate.

“Oh Alina, you will already do anything for me, in this you don’t have a choice.” He chuckled darkly and reached up to stroke a finger across the amplifier. “You see, I have no need for promises when I’ve already won. But the more you ask of me, the harder you beg? The longer and more agonizing his death. His death is inevitable, but it’s up to you alone how much he suffers.”

Alina’s hand shot up to her mouth horrified and terrified to say anything else.

Her stared at her, cold and uncaring of her fear. His eyes lit on her ring again. “You’re still wearing my ring.” It was a statement, but it was clear that he was demanding to know why.

Alina lowered her hand, hiding it behind her back as if by removing it from sight, he would forget about it all together. She opened her mouth then quickly shut it. Mal’s life may already be lost, but she would be damned if she caused him any more pain.

The Darkling waited patiently, looking ever so slightly amused at her quandary.

“You’re still my fiancé.” She finally settled on, hoping he wouldn’t see the depth of her lie.

His eyebrows raised fractionally, but then his mask fell firmly into place. He turned from her. “Ivan will take you to the Tracker. Leave me.”

She turned around immediately, not wanting to stay a moment longer with this man who only seemed to grow more monstrous with every word.

“You’re wrong.” He said the words so softly that Alina almost missed it. He almost didn’t seem to know that he was speaking aloud. She paused, one hand already pressed to the silken fabric of the tent flap, ready to push it aside.

“The boy wasn’t the only one to stand in my way, but at least he will be much easier to deal with than she was.”

“Who?” Alina turned around, but the Darkling’s back was to her. He had picked up his drink again and his knuckles were pale in his grip.

“You wouldn’t remember her. I doubt many would. She was wrong though, not that it maters anymore.” His words sounded so hollow, so bitter.

“Leave me.” He ordered again. “You have one night, Solnishko. It’s more than either of you deserve. Remember this kindness.”

She exited the tent, biting down on her tongue to desperately hold back anything that might compromise the little “kindness” he deigned to give her.

She wondered if it was Genya that the Darkling had been talking about. But no, Alina was supposed to see her tomorrow, presumably so she could tailor her into the sparkling fiancé she was supposed to be.

_So who then?_ She filed away the question for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Cue dramatic thunderclap* She's ALIVE!
> 
> Nah, but really I haven't updated any of my fics for about 3 months and I haven't updated _this_ fic for about 10 months. Dental school starts in little more than a week though, so I'm kind of taking advantage of my "now or never" energy. For a more in-depth update of where I'm at with fics, head over to my [tumblr](https://smiling-penelope.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you like this update! Be sure to let me know what you think down below if you don't mind. Also typo patrols are more than welcome!


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